A Turning Point
by Rouch
Summary: What happened that finally led to Sara's breaking point in Bloodlines? Edited verison.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I had posted this last year, but due to chapter 4 it was pulled from the website. I posted the story in it's entirety on freedom of speech fanfiction, but would like to archive it here for simplicity. The middle has been revised to ensure it's fanfiction appropriate; however the story line is the same for those of you who read the fic over there.

While watching **Bloodlines**, I thought it strange that Sara did not want to interview the rape victim, and then Grissom came up and asked her how many vacation days she had left, and then, obviously, the drinking and driving thing…got me thinking… Now I know this is not what TPTB had in mind…I know she was struggling with her past at this point and was dealing with Grissom's rejection, but why did she spiral downward so quickly? Here's what I think could happened between **No More Bets** and **Bloodlines** that finally pushed her over the edge.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own them, I merely hi-jacked CSI for a short period of time.

**A Turning Point**

Sara yawned as she walked into trace, coffee in hand. "Are the results back yet?" Getting down to business, she had little patience for Hodges even when she was well rested.

"The substance you found on the victim's face was chalk," he seemed to sense her impatience, giving her the information without his usual flare.

"Chalk, like school teacher's chalk?" She hadn't expected that answer when she collected the white powdery substance.

The man in front of her shook his head, and handed her the results, "No, like rock climbing or gymnast chalk."

Sara grabbed the print out and walked out without a backward glance.

"Thank so much for your hard work Hodges. Oh no, it was my pleasure, anything I can do to help you Sara…" he continued to talk to himself as he set out on his next task.

--/--

Catching up with Greg in the hallway, Sara handed off the results, "Gymnast chalk," she announced. He was still not officially in the field until he found a suitable replacement for the lab, but their case needed all hands on deck, and it was refreshing to Sara to work with the young lab rat.

He studied the paper, "Was she a gymnast?"

"No, but it could be any type of sports chalk," she explained while they sat down in the lay out room. The evidence was in white boxes stacked in the back of the room.

Greg nodded, "What other sports use chalk? Rock climbing, billiards—"

Sara cut him off, "Billiards is not a sport. Greg we've been over this, chess is not a sport, tic tac toe is not a sport—"

He smacked her lightly on the arm, "Shh, I know this, but a lot hardcore pool players use chalk on the planted hand to allow the cue to slid easier." He explained acting out the motion.

"Oh Greg, I don't even want to know what you are talking about," Nick spoke having heard the last portion of his statement, and seeing what he interpreted as an obscene gesture. "And in front of a lady too."

Sara laughed despite her fatigue, but quickly followed up with another yawn.

"When's the last time you slept Sara?" Nick asked seeing the circles under her eyes; she looked exhausted even for her.

"Don't know, maybe three days," she replied in resignation.

Nick nodded and looked at the stack of evidence, realizing what case they were working on, and knowing why Sara hadn't slept, "The serial rapist?"

Greg nodded as Sara fell silent, "Seven victims in fourteen nights. All of them died of suffocation, but not before they were brutally raped."

She listened to the simplified version of events, and pictured the actual crime in her head. Shivering slightly, she stood, and walked over to the boxes. The answer had to be in the evidence. They had a DNA sample, but nothing to compare it to, and no leads.

'_No, no please don't. Get off me!' _The victim's screams haunted her. She felt she was no closer to solving the case, and then her mind flashed back to Suzanna Kirkwood. Guilt welled up inside her. Even when she caught the person, she was helpless to save the victims.

She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Sara?" Greg stepped back, his face full of concern.

Flashing an apologetic smile his way, she grabbed a box, "Let's go over the evidence and notes again, we're missing something."

The younger CSI put a hand on the box, stopping her in her tracks, "Sara, go lay down in the break room. I'll come wake you up if I find anything."

She shook her head, opening her mouth to protest, but could not stifle a yawn that took over.

"Please Sara, you'll be more observant after a few hours." He pleaded taking the box away from her and leading her to the break room.

She didn't have the strength to protest, and sat heavily on the black sofa. Her eyes were almost closed before she had even lain down. Greg backed out of the room, turning off the light, and closing the door. He settled down at a desk that was in eye shot so he could stop anyone from entering.

--/--

'_4. Just write it down.' Sara thought to herself while she stood by Suzanna. Her reaction was ID enough for her. _

_Suddenly, Kelly James burst through the observation glass, and tackled Sara. They were in an alley way, and he was groping her, his hand covering her mouth and nose. She couldn't breath. _

_The weight shifted and she took a breath of much needed air. The smell of iron was a tangible being that she swore she could touch. Getting up, she looked around for her attacker, but saw her mother standing in the kitchen. Her face was bruised, and she was shaking. Sara tried to find the source of her fear; never seeing the hand coming at her until she was flat on her back again. Her jaw felt broken, and her dad was towering over her. He knelt down. "No!" She could shout but she couldn't move. The alcohol on his breath wafted over her. His scowl turned to one of pure shock, and he dropped to the ground next to her revealing her mother standing over her with a bloody knife. Sara stood to run; she could hear her father crying in pain while her mom stabbed him over and over again. _

_She sprinted through the halls of her house, and they morphed into the halls of the lab. She was being chased, by her attacker again. 'Grissom,' she thought frantically, and ran to his office door. Turning the handle, it was locked. She moved to the glass to get his attention. He was sitting next to Debbie Marlin, comforting her, helping her._

_Before she could shout at him, to curse at him for being there for an image of her, but never her, she was tackled to the ground again. Sara screamed as she fought for her life._

She opened her eyes and saw Greg, shaking her, trying to wake her from her nightmare. Sara tried to back away from him, still not able to tell the difference between reality and the dream. Tears had fallen down her face, but she was either not aware, or didn't care.

Greg had no idea what to do. He wanted to help her, but the raw terror he saw in her eyes scared him to the core. "Sara, should I get Grissom?"

Finally hearing his words, she shook her head, "Please no. It was just a dream. I just need a minute, ok?"

He nodded, as much as he wanted to comfort her, he wanted even more to never see that look in her eyes again. Leaving the room, he closed the door part way, and guarded it with his body, daring anyone to enter.

Sara rubbed her eyes, trying to push the images from her head. She could still feel her attacker's hand covering her mouth. A sudden realization hit her, and she stood, quickly making her way to the door. She needed to find Greg.

His worried face met hers.

"His hand." She stated and started walking briskly to the layout room, leaving a confused Greg in her wake.

"What?" He asked and followed her.

She was already flipping through photos, "His hand, he uses his hand to cover their nose and mouth, and suffocates them."

Taking a stack of crime scene photos of the victims, he helped her look for any evidence that supported her hypothesis.

She threw her photos on the table in frustration. Had they had that piece of information when they found and processed the bodies they would have had the right picture. The angles were all wrong to determine if the bruising around the mouth was consistent with a hand, and all of the victims had been released to their grieving families.

Greg set his down in resignation as well. "Nothing. Do you think the chalk was on his hand and transferred to her face?"

"Not likely, evidence suggests he wears gloves," she explained sitting down as if the life was suddenly sucked out of her.

"But we only found the chalk on the last victim, maybe he didn't have time for gloves with her?" Greg wondered out loud.

A spark of hope flickered in the brunette's eyes, "We haven't processed her personal items yet. Maybe we'll find a print."

They each took an evidence box and got to work with a renewed energy.

--/--

Forty-five minutes later, Sara lifted the tape off a button from the victim's shirt in triumph. She studied the tape, with a satisfied smile, "Gotch' ya." She whispered.

"A print?" Greg asked putting down his magnified glass.

"It's a partial, but it may be enough," she answered. They both walked quickly to the computer, and scanned the print. "This may take a while. Want to go make some coffee?"

They both stood, but the computer beeped loudly. Surprised, they sat back down. "It can't be." She uttered aloud in disbelief.

"It would explain why it found a match so quickly," Greg conceded.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sara walked into the interrogation room with a satisfied smirk on her face, but inside she was feeling nothing but apprehension. Stopping short of the table, she realized there was an extra person in the room, _'Damn it.' _ "Mr. James, I see you've lawyered up?"

The women sitting next to her suspect spoke for him, "Considering the false accusations that were thrown at my client the last time he was here, he felt he needed representation."

"Just because the suspect was too afraid to ID your client doesn't mean they were false accusations," she started as she sat across from the pair. Sara sized up Kelly James, "But you made sure Suzanna Kirkwood would never say another word again didn't you?"

"Ms. Sidle, that rape case has been closed, and my client is here to answer questions for you current case." The women answered sternly. "I'd suggest you get to it before we leave."

Sara stared her down, "First of all, that case is not closed, second it's been upgraded to a murder, and third my current case is one of the city's number one priorities, I've been given leeway, so your client is here for as long as I need him to be here."

Satisfied that the women had been put in her place, she turned her attention back to Kelley, "I need to know where you were on each of these dates and times." She slid a pen and notebook, with the dates and times of each of the seven rapes, over to him and waited quietly for him to start writing.

--/--

Sara walked out of the room, file and notebook in hand, suddenly desiring a shower. She knew she had their serial rapist, and it made her sick. There was not enough physical evidence to warrant a DNA sample, yet. Here guilt over not helping Suzanna was magnified now that she started counting up the lives she could have saved.

He was so smug, like he thought he got away with his last crime, and now he was untouchable. Sara was counting on that level of arrogance. It was only a matter of time before he got careless, and she was going to make sure she was there when he did.

Her walk through the lab ended back in the layout room. She found her temporary partner pouring over the evidence, "Hey, care to poke some holes through Kelly James' alibis?"

He looked up at her relieved, "Does that mean we get to leave this building?"

Before she could respond to her colleague, Grissom's interrupted, "Sara, my office please."

To her ears it sounded somewhere between a request and a demand. She handed the notebook over to Greg, "Get started on this I'll be right back." After instructing him, she turned, but Grissom was already in his office. She shook her head, and made her way across the hallway.

Leaning against his door frame she tried to sense what type of mood he was in, something she hadn't been able to do for a while, and she wondered if she just didn't know him anymore, or if he was keeping her at an arm's length.

'_I couldn't do it…but you did. You risked it all.'_

Grissom's words would haunt her. He chose his career over her.

"Hey." She tried to sound normal.

Looking up at her, he pointed to the chair, "Have a seat."

She obeyed and waited for him to continue. She no longer felt comfortable in his company, and it hurt.

"I heard you brought Kelly James in tonight," he stated simply.

"Yeah, we found a partial on Lydia Croft's button, it came back to him. He claims he works for a dry cleaner she frequents, and must have got there when he was hanging it. He's listed his whereabouts for every rape, and I've got Greg looking the info over right now." She fell into the comfort of the job, easing her discomfort.

Grissom listened intently, "How are you?"

Taken aback by the question she opened her mouth but no sound came out.

"Suzanna Kirkwood's death bothered me, and I need to know you can handle this," his eyes searched hers for an answer.

'_He doesn't care. He just wants to know if I'm going to fly off the handle,' _her revelation stabbed her painfully. "I'm fine." Her voiced sounded strained even to her ears.

His eyes narrowed as he picked up on the thread of hurt that laced her words, "When's the last time you slept?"

Exhaling her frustration, "About two hours ago."

"In the breakroom?" He knew she hadn't gone home, "And how much sleep was that exactly?"

She stood, "Grissom, I'm fine. I'm not going to do anything to embarrass the department; I just need to solve this case."

Before he could explain Greg walked into the office, obviously excited about something, "Hey guess where Mr. James said he was on the night Lydia Croft was raped?" He was totally oblivious to the tension in the room.

Sara turned to him expectantly, letting her tight muscles relax slightly.

"Climbing at the Powerhouse Rock Climbing Gym on Charleston," he answered waving the notebook in the air.

Looking at her watch, "10:00 a.m., they should be open." She turned back to Grissom, and raised an eyebrow, asking him if they were finished.

He nodded, "I want you to go home after you check out that lead and get some sleep."

"It's not much of a home Grissom," she spoke so only he could hear her, turned, and walked out with Greg.

--/--

Greg scanned the gym, looking at the various people climbing the synthetic walls. He watched several dangle from the surface, shoving a hand into a bag hanging from their lower backs, coming out with a thin coating of chalk.

Sara had already made it to the desk. Waiting patiently in line, she sized up the two men working the counter. Very typical, they each wore North Face or Columbia apparel, hiking boots, and fleece vests. They were lean, and obviously spent many hours outside the gym, as evident of their tanned skin. One had short brown hair, and reminder her slightly of Keanu Reeves, the other had shoulder length, sandy blond hair that he tied back.

"Can I help you?" The brown hair man asked the pair.

Sara smiled, and stepped up to the counter, "I'm Sara Sidle, this is Greg Sanders. We're with the Crime Lab." She explained.

"Crime lab? No crimes here." He flashed her a smile, and she could tell he bit back some sort of cheesy line.

"Mr…?" Sara searched for a nametag.

"Tucker James." He filled in for her.

She tensed, and Greg shot her a questioning glance, "Any relation to Kelly James?"

His smile faded quickly, "Unfortunately. He's my half brother. Can we…," cocking his head toward the office for privacy, the three entered and settled into conference chairs. "Thanks, I'm not proud of Kelly, and would rather not have the rest of my coworkers know what a creep my brother is. What did he do?"

"Does he get into a lot of trouble?" Greg asked, the only record they had found was his juvenile files.

Tucker looked at them with a pained expression, "He was arrested as a kid for assault. Beat up my girlfriend. But he wasn't even sixteen, so he got three years in juvie, and hasn't done a good thing with his life yet." Glancing at Sara, he continued, "I've spent the better part of my life apologizing for him."

"Was he here two days ago?" She finally asked.

The young man's eyes darkened, "Yes, he said he wanted to climb. He's never climbed before, but he was a paying customer, and I had to let him. He didn't stay long, he started bugging Croft, so I kicked him out."

"Lydia Croft?" Greg asked feeling the pieces start to come together, but they had tracked her steps the day she was attacked and the climb never came up.

"No Lisa Croft…Lydia?" He tested the name, "Lydia Croft was the girl who was raped and killed two nights ago…oh god…you think my…you think Kelly did this?"

Sara felt sorry for the man in front of her, "That's what we're trying to figure out. Did Lisa have a sister?"

He shrugged, "Croft came here at least three times a week, but we don't talk about family around here. We talk about the 5.12 we climbed, or the new harness that just came out."

"No sister has come up in our investigation; do you have a number and address for Lisa Croft?" Greg asked taking out his notebook.

"Sure, she's a member, I'll go copy her contact card," he answered leaving the room.

Silence hung in the air a moment while each CSI contemplated the new information.

Greg finally turned to Sara, "You think she's a relative of Lydia's?"

Before she could answer, Tucker walked back in the office, a piece of paper in one hand and a jacket in the other, "Here's Lisa's information, and Kelly left this jacket here."

"We don't have a warrant," Sara informed him.

He held the coat out again, "It's been here for two days…new gym policy, if it's not picked up in two days we throw it out." He answered with a small smile.

Smiling in gratitude Sara realized she didn't have gloves, or evidence bags with her, they hadn't expected to be collecting evidence. "Our kits are in the car, do you have a bag we can put that in?"

He smiled back at her, set the coat on the table, and looked around the room. Finding nothing, he emptied out a backpack that sat in the corner.

"Mr. James, that isn't necessary," she started.

"It's ok, I trust you to bring it back." He smiled again and handed it over to her, "I look forward to seeing you again. I work everyday until 9:00; then the gym is empty if you want to climb in piece and quiet." He offered looking directly at Sara.

She grinned openly handing her business card over to him, "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for all your help, and if you think of anything call me."

Once outside she looked over at Greg, who seemed to be quietly laughing at her, "What?"

"I think he _likes_ you," he teased.

She slapped his arm, "Grow up Greg." Walking to the SUV she called over her shoulder, "Let's process this jacket."

He climbed into the passenger seat, "I thought Grissom told you to go home?"

"Yeah, well it's after 11:00, hopefully he's gone home himself." She answered, starting the vehicle. _'Not likely Sara. He's probably guarding the entrance.' _

_--/--_

Sara got through the door. That was a small victory for her, but didn't make it far into labyrinth before she heard his voice. "Sara?"

She stopped in her tracks, put on a false smile, and turned to face him, "Grissom." Handing the back pack to Greg, she waited for his request to join him in his—

"Office." He spoke tersely and waited for her to follow him.

Sitting down in her usual chair, she looked at him with slight defiance.

He held her gaze for a moment and exhaled loudly, "Sara—"

"You don't care." She interrupted suddenly, she had no idea what had given her the nerve to finally echo her thoughts that haunted her for weeks. She had imagined the conversation, but never in her life thought she would have it.

"What are you saying, I—" He had no time to collect his thoughts.

'_You already crossed the line Sidle, might as well keep going,'_ she told herself. "Somebody young and beautiful shows up. Somebody we _could _care about." She repeated his own words back to him. "I heard you Grissom, so you can drop this. I know you have to worry about me because you're my supervisor, but don't act like you care."

He couldn't decide if he was more shocked by the outburst, or by her words.

"You can care about a woman that looks just like me because she's a case." She stood, not wanting to loose her composure that was hanging by a thread. "I'm not your case. I'll sleep when Kelly James is in jail, and cannot hurt another woman again."

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Greg had returned to his station in the DNA lab to process the jacket himself. It would just be faster. He knew the importance of the case, and he knew how invested Sara was. Everyone from night shift had speculated at one point in time why she took rape and assault cases so seriously, and all they could agree on was that it was personal. That fact in itself made Greg feel sick. Seeing the crime scene photos of their current case was hard enough; photos with the face of someone you loved and cared about was too much for him.

"How's it coming?" Sara's voice broke his contemplations.

Surprised Grissom hadn't sent her home; he wondered what she had said to convince him she should stay. He shook his head, "You know, you're really the only one that gets under his skin."

She looked at him, trying to determine the meaning behind his words, "What do you mean?"

"Grissom. If you were anyone else, you'd be home, and banned from the lab until shift change. What did you say to him?" He asked cutting out the final sample from the collar of the jacket.

Sara did not respond, and instead looked down at the material that was now riddled with several small square holes. "It looks fairly worn, do you think we'll get a DNA sample?"

Starting the processor, he looked over at her, "It's a good possibility. I didn't find anything else on the coat that could help us, but I wanted a second opinion."

She was already searching the pockets, "I was thinking, if worse comes to worse, we can see if Tucker would give us his DNA sample and we can compare it to the rapist. If enough alleles are in common, that may be enough to get a warrant."

"He seemed more than willing to swap spit with you Sara, so that may not be a problem," he joked, hoping for a smile. Her smiles were so scarce that he took pride when he was able to produce one.

"I'll use a swab thank you," she commented with a crooked grin.

'_That counts,'_ he told himself noting her mood.

Pulling the lining from the pocket out, she examined it, "There's a hole in the lining." She was desperate to find any piece of evidence she could get her hands on, "Let's open it and see if anything got stuck in between the material."

Carefully cutting the seam away, Greg leaned over to get a better look, "A poker chip, not that uncommon around here. Is that the tag or a piece of paper?" He asked pointing to a white corner stuck in a fold.

"Looks like paper," she commented, unfolding it. "DCV 3492. License plate number? I'm going to go run it through the DMV database, and then see if I can contact Lisa Croft. Page me when you have the DNA results?"

She was gone before he could answer.

--/--

Her eyes drifted shut while she waited for the database to continue its search. It had crashed twice already, only to finally report no Nevada plates matched. Sighing she manipulated the software to start a nation wide search.

--/--

The beep startled her awake; sitting up straight she looked at the screen, and ran out of the room to find Greg. Before she reached the DNA lab, she ran into Warrick, "I didn't think you were in already?" she asked him.

"Grissom called us all in. He wants us to compare all our notes." He explained. "There've been so many attacks by this guy in such a short period of time we're all kinda running around like a chickens with our heads cut off."

"I thought we were meeting at the start of shift? It's 12:30 in the afternoon." She stated.

He put his hands up, "He said you were on to something, and he wanted to get us all up to speed."

'_The sooner we solve this, the soon he can send me home,' _she was annoyed, waved a hand at Warrick and continued her trek to the Greg.

Rounding the corner she began talking immediately. "Hey, guess who the license plate is registered to?" She stopped when she saw Grissom sitting in the chair.

"Greg is in the break room." He said simply.

"I heard you called a meeting. Was I going to be invited?" She wasn't sure why she felt so defensive.

"That's why I'm here. I didn't think you were going to make yourself easy for me to find," he confessed.

She instantly felt guilty, "Look Grissom, about earlier. I was—"

"Tired, exhausted, and I stepped on your last nerve?" He filed in the words for her.

She nodded her head, grateful he seemed to be understanding.

"When I was working on my dissertation I had to spend four days straight, no sleep recording data. I was so strung out, and emotional that cried at an Oreo commercial."

She chuckled at the mental image.

He grinned back at her, the smile touching his eyes. Finally he shifted gears, "Who's car?"

"Lisa Croft's," Sara caught him up to speed on the lead with the plate number and poker chip.

He nodded and stood, "Let's join the others."

--/--

Sara studied the DNA results in front her, listening to the others around her talk about their rape cases. The rapes all took place at night, flooding the night shift with enough work that all other cases were now being assigned to other shifts.

"Sara it looks like your case is the only one he messed up," Catherine observed listening to all the dead ends.

"The DNA we got from the jacket matches the rapist DNA," she noted.

"I'll check with Brass, see if that's enough to get a warrant. We may run into problems with the manner of collection," Grissom noted.

"I just want a warrant to get a clean sample. He did meet his half brother—"

"Who seemed quite taken with Sara," Greg added.

Grissom's eyes narrowed.

Sara glared at him, "I thought we might get a sample from him to compare. He seemed willing to help out any way he could." She stared at Greg as she finished her statement, daring him to comment.

He wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Sara, where do you need help?" Nick asked. They all sensed they were close to getting the guy.

"Someone should follow up with Lisa Croft. I'm wondering if she was the target, but Lydia somehow got in the way. I also have no idea what, if any, relationship the two had." She continued to think, "I thought we should follow up with James' place of employment. He claims to have gotten his print on Lydia's button at work. Maybe that's how he decides who his next victim will be," she explained thinking aloud for herself as much as she was for the group.

"Okay, Nick and Catherine go interview Lisa Croft, Greg and Nick get the dry cleaner records and crosscheck them against out victim list. Sara, finish up with the jacket and poker chip, then go home and get a few hours of sleep," Grissom finished looking at her waiting for her to protest, "Please?"

She nodded her resignation.

"I'm going to see if we can get that warrant," he finalized and the team stood ready to begin their assignments.

Sara stood, feeling anxious and excited. She needed to see Kelly James behind bars. Walking out of the break room, she found Grissom lurking in the hallway.

"Sara," he looked concerned.

"It's okay Grissom, I do really need to get some sleep," she waved him off.

"I promise to call you if the case breaks," he stated.

--/--

Finding nothing more on the jacket, and deciding that the poker chip was a dead end after discovering no prints, Sara grabbed the yellow back pack and headed for the parking lot, swinging by Grissom's office on her way out, "I'm going home."

He looked up, and then looked at his watch, "3:00. When are you coming back in?"

"Unless you call, I'll be in at 11:00. I need to swing by the climbing gym and return Tucker's pack. He offered to let me climb, and I thought it would be a good work out. I'll be in after I shower." She studied his reaction while she spoke, and thought she saw a flash of jealousy, but it was quickly buried.

--/--

Nick and Catherine waited on Lisa Croft's porch. "The husband identified the body, and gave us a timeline of Lydia Croft's day. We had no reason to interview other family members," Catherine explained to her colleague, as she rung the bell again.

Nick peered around the corner, spotting a car in the driveway, "California license plate, that's the car."

Before Catherine could comment, the front door opened revealing a petite, long haired brunette. She was dressed in sweats and appeared to have been crying, "Yes?"

Nick felt a surge of sympathy for the woman in front of him, "Lisa Croft?"

She nodded.

"I'm Nick Stokes, and this is Catherine Willows, we're with the Crime lab," he started gently.

New tears welled up in her eyes, "Is this about Lydia?"

"Yes, you knew her?" Catherine asked trying not to upset her further.

"She's my sister-in-law. Have you found the man that…" Trailing off, she wasn't able to finish her sentence.

"We're close ma'am. Can you tell us if Lydia ever drove your car?" Nick cocked his head toward the Audi in the driveway.

"Yes, her A/C went out in her car, not really something you can do without in this state." She answered and then her eyes narrowed, "Why?"

He wasn't ready to draw conclusion yet, and continued his questions, "Do you know a Kelly James?"

"No, I don't think so, was she murdered too?" Lisa was quickly loosing her control.

"No ma'am. He's a suspect," Catherine clarified.

"He? Kelly…there's a creep from the gym, I think his name is Kelly, I remembered wondering why a mother would call her son that. Do you think…do you think he was after me?" Her voice quivered with shock.

"We're looking into it, do you mind if we take a look at your car?" Nick requested.

--/--

Greg and Warrick were in the break room looking over the dry cleaner's list when Nick and Catherine walked in. "Hey guys, any luck with the license plate?" Greg asked hopefully.

"Not much, Lydia Croft used her sister-in-law's car frequently, so it's really hard to say who the target was. We need to figure out how he picks these women." Nick sat next to his colleagues looking defeated. "What about you?" He asked nodding at the list.

"Three out of the seven victims used the dry cleaner Kelly James works at." Warrick stated rubbing his eyes. "Did Sara find anything else before she left?"

Catherine shook her head, "No prints on the chip, nothing else from the jacket."

"What about the warrant?" Greg asked hopeful.

"Grissom wasn't in his office. He might be meeting with Brass. Other than that, dead end," the blonde conceded.

"Sara won't be happy," Greg observed.

Nick grimaced, thinking of her reaction, "Yeah, well at least she'll be rested."

Catherine flipped through the customer list Warrick had just set aside, "It's been two days since the last rape, we're due for one tonight."

They all sensed the gravity and frustration of the situation. There was not much more they could do with the evidence they had, and the rapist didn't appear to be retiring.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Sara got out of her Jeep. She was wearing jogging pants and a tank top, her hair hastily swept back. A feeling of excitement rushed through her, and she told her self it was because she hadn't climbed since she was living in San Francisco. She carried the empty yellow back pack in one hand, and her gym bag in the other.

Checking her watch and noting that it was nearly ten, she hoped she hadn't missed Tucker. Reaching the doors, they opened with ease, "Tucker?" She saw no one, and half the lights were turned off.

She leaned over the desk. "Tuck—" her words were cut short as someone attacked her from behind, pinning her upper body to the counter, grabbing her hair and slammed her forehead against the desk.

She struggled against the weight, but both arms were pinned underneath her, and her vision was blurred from the force of the blow. "Get the hell off me!" she yelled.

The weight on her shifted slightly, but not enough for her to escape. She pushed up, hoping to free an arm, but a gloved hand shot forward, allowing her to see a revolver in their hand. "No way in hell bitch."

--/--

Grissom walked into his office, and sat down in frustration. He took off his glasses and massaged his temples.

"No warrant?" Catherine's voice fill the room.

"No, the judge was leery about the collection procedures. There was no definite proof it belonged to Kelly James," he explained, controlling his anger. He had gone ten rounds with ten different judges, desperate for help. "Is everyone here?"

The blonde shook her head, "Greg went home to sleep, and Sara hasn't come back yet."

His eyebrow rose in question. He hadn't actually expected Sara to stay away from the lab until 11:00. A shot of jealously and worry reminded him that she was climbing with their suspect's brother. "I told her I'd call her if anything came up regarding the case," he explained and picked up his cell phone.

--/--

Sara froze, stunned as she identified her attacker; Kelly James shoved the gun into the back of her head, eliciting a growl of pain. He stood, and grabbed for her bag, "What's in here?" he asked his voice full of menace.

"Where's Tucker?" she demanded.

He pushed the muzzle of the weapon harder against her head. "I get to ask the questions now," he shot back, and unzipped the black gym bag. Rummaging through her items, he found her bra. He roughly spun her around, pressing the revolver against sternum.

She stared him down, weighing her options. If she knew where Tucker was, and if he was unharmed, her decision would have been simple—go for the gun.

"What are you thinking about there lovely?" he asked bringing her bra to his nose.

Rage flared within her, she shot her hand out knocking the gun away from her, but he held on, using his shock, she leaned in and rammed her shoulder into his midsection. They both toppled to the ground, struggling for leverage. Sara knew she would loose given their obvious weight differences. Her only hope was to either get his weapon, or get to her Jeep. She had no idea where her keys were, making her latter option more difficult. _'Going for the gun it is,' _she yielded.

Before she could reach for his hand he flipped her, body slamming her below him. Struggling for breath, she squirmed eliciting a groan of pleasure for Kelly, "You're going to put up a fight."

With a scream of rage, Sara's nailed scrapped across his neck, taking chunks of blood and skin with it. Kelly grabbed both wrists, the fury in his eyes scared her to the core. Somewhere in the background, Sara could hear her cell phone ring, and she hoped it was Grissom. If she didn't answer, considering the case they were working on, she knew he'd come find her.

--/--

He shut the cell phone in irritation. She was on a date, and not answering her phone in the middle of a huge case.

"She didn't answer?"

Grissom had forgotten Catherine was still in the room. He exhaled harshly, "No, she said she was going to the climbing gym before she came in tonight."

She tried not to laugh at his reaction given the circumstances, "I don't think those harness have much room for a cell phone. If she's on the wall, she'll check her phone when she gets done. Let her have some stress relief Grissom," she scolded him, and walked away.

'_I'm giving you fifteen minutes to answer your phone, and then I'm coming to find you,' _he insanely thought to himself. He had no idea where the emotions were coming from, and he couldn't even name the emotions.

--/--

Sara was pulled to her feet, and pushed over to one of the climbing walls. She kept her right fist closed, protecting the DNA she had collected. He slammed her up against the wall, her back colliding with a handhold, knocking the wind from her again. She slid to the ground, and watched Kelly, unhook one of the top ropes.

He approached her, and looped the rope around both wrists. "The best thing about learning to climb is learning how to tie knots no one can escape from," he told her as he finished his work. Standing, he took the other end of the rope in his hands, and started yanking on it.

Sara could feel the tension, as her arms were pulled over her head. She tried to stand but never got the chance. The strain on her shoulders was becoming painful, and she was soon dangling just off the ground so that she was eye level with James.

--/--

Grissom counted the rings, and was now starting to worry. He tried to weigh the anger she would have toward him if he showed up at the gym looking for her against the fear growing in his gut. Kelly James had been known to go to the gym, and if the past held true, there would be another rape that night.

He grabbed his keys, and started toward the exit, but decided on two short detours first. The gun locker, and Jim Brass. _'I hope she's just going to be pissed at me.'_

_--/--_

Sara could hear the phone ring again, and realized Grissom had to be getting worried. Now all she had to do was distract Kelly for fifteen minutes. "Where's Tucker?" she asked again, trying to think beyond the pain her punished muscles were now feeling as the adrenaline left her.

Kelly set the gun down, and walked over to her. His hand slid up her inner thigh, and brought his other hand around to the back of her head, "Questions, questions, Sara."

She was frozen in fear, and she squeezed her eyes shut, _'This isn't happening Sara. Wake up, it's the same nightmare you always have.'_

"You smell so good Sara," he commented and pulled away. Searching for more rope he continued to talk to her, "You know, all the other girls, they were random. I didn't want to get caught, so I would just drive around and find someone. It was satisfying to take them roughly. Their screams…it was like a drug," he told her taking her left ankle, and tying it to the wall. "But Lydia, oh, that was personal. She got in my way, I wanted to date Lisa." Grabbing the other leg, he tied it and pulled roughly on the rope.

Sara groaned at the pain his actions caused. She was now hanging, spread eagle in mid air.

"And I realized how much more pleasure I got from raping someone who really deserved," James spoke, coming close to her again. His hands roamed her midsection where her top had ridden up. He slipped both hands under her sports bra, and squeezed each breast painfully.

Tears were streaming down her face now, "No, please don't." Her fist closed tighter, protecting the evidence.

He smiled, slipping his hand down the elastic waste band of her sweats.

"No!" Her scream was primal.

--/--

Grissom continued to try Sara's cell phone as he road in the passenger seat of Jim's car. "She's not answering, turn on the sirens." Bile was rising in his throat.

They pulled into the parking lot, and they both spotted her Jeep. _'She's just climbing. She got a diversion like you told her to,' _he tried to convince himself, but pulled his Sig out as they approached the doors.

--/--

The sirens drew closer, "Damn it!" Kelley yelled, grabbed his gun and ran to the back, leaving Sara hanging, her sweats resting just under her hip bones.

She gasped for breath, and could feel her entire body shaking.

Grissom ran into the gym, with Brass right behind him. He tried to process the sight before him. _'That's not Sara,' _he tried to tell himself, but every sense he had was telling him Sara was hanging from a rope.

He ran to her, not caring about his safety. "Sara?" his voice sounded distant as the blood rushed through his ears.

"Grissom, damn it," Brass reprimand him. They hadn't cleared the building.

He reached out to her but was stopped suddenly by her voice.

"Grissom no, I'm evidence," her voice was strong, but carried an edge of fear.

"Sara, I'm not letting you just hang here," he told her reaching for her hand again.

She struggled, "Grissom, damn you, just go get your kit."

He looked in her eyes, "I don't have it. I came with Brass."

"He's not getting away with this," she began to cry. "Please, I'm not hurt, call Catherine."

"Sara, is he gone?" Brass finally asked gently.

She nodded, "He went out the back when we heard the sirens."

Grissom opened his phone and dialed Catherine's number.

"_Willows"_

"Cath, I need you to get my kit and yours, and get down to the climbing gym as fast as you can. Use your lights," he tried to sound calm, but was quickly loosing it as he watched Sara start to shake. She was going into shock.

Catherine seemed to hear the seriousness in his voice, and chose not to ask any questions._"I'm on my way."_

"Come alone," he finished and shut the phone. The CSI in him started to kick in, it was safer. Her pants were pulled down slightly, and she had asked for Catherine.

Stepping closer, he fought every fiber of his being that told him to touch her, comfort her. "Sara, did he…were you raped?"

Time seemed to slow for all three of them. Brass hadn't taken the time to consider the possibility.

All she could muster was a shake of her head.

Grissom wanted to cry out in relief. They had gotten there in time.

"Tucker," she finally spoke.

Rage bubbled over now, "Was it him? Did he do this to you?"

She seemed to tense at his tone, "No find him, I think Kelly hurt him."

He felt like an asshole, "Brass? Can you check?"

Once they were alone, Grissom finally let his guard down, "Sara. God Sara, I'm so sorry." All he wanted to do was hold her, and he suddenly realized he always wanted to do that. In the past he was always the barrier, but now it was Kelly James. He had never wanted to kill a person until that moment.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Catherine walked through the gym doors, two kits in her hands, unsure of what she was going to find. The stale smell of dust and sweat assaulted her; her brain worked through all the different types of bacteria that were growing in the facility. Glancing over the counter she saw Brass hovering over some paramedics. Preparing herself for the worst, "Brass?"

The older man turned toward her, his expression serious. His movement revealed a young man, gash on his forehead, clearly unconscious. Brass merely pointed to the opening of the gym.

The blonde made her way to the main area, and stopped dead in her tracks. Grissom was standing next to a shape that was suspended in mid air by ropes. Catherine slowly got over the shock of the sight before her, and realized it was Sara, and she was alive. Slowly walking up to the pair, she set the field kits down.

"Sara, Cath is almost here, just hang on. Are you still ok?" Grissom's voice had an edge neither woman had ever heard before.

"Grissom," the blonde began quietly, not wanting to startle either of her colleagues. He turned toward her, but Sara's eyes remained fixed on him.

He looked like he had aged in a matter of minutes, "Catherine. Please…" he swallowed painfully, "…process Sara as quickly as you can. We need to get her down." It pained him to treat her as evidence, but he knew that was the only way he was going to handle the situation. He grabbed his kit, and walked toward the front of the building, "I'll be back in ten minutes."

Catherine watched him retreat, and turned toward her 'crime scene'. She winced at the thought. "Sara?" she started unsure of herself. Rarely did they have a live body, at a crime scene to process, not only that, it was Sara.

The brunette rested the side of her head against her right arm, fighting back her tears. "Just get every piece of evidence you can."

Laying a tarp underneath her, blood drops slowly fell on the white plastic. Concerned, she followed the trail, and realized the rope securing the left ankle had broken the skin. She began snapping photos, and Catherine wondered if Sara wanted her to talk, or process in silence. Stopping to assess the younger woman's state of mind, "Sara, if at any point you feel uncomfortable, or pain, say the word."

Sara didn't trust her voice to speak, and merely offered a nod.

Snapping a shot of her waste band, Catherine swallowed hard, "Sara did he rape you?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, and whispered, "No. He… touched me."

Not wanting to push the issue while she was still hanging, Catherine quickly finished up her evidentiary photos, and took out a razor blade. "Sara, I can collect the rest of the evidence just as easy with you sitting on the tarp. I'm going to cut you down," her voice was low, and calm, as if she were trying to calm Lindsey.

"He wore gloves. You won't get his epithelials from the rope," she informed the blonde. "I scratched him." Squeezing her fist, she reminded herself that her attack was going to lead to Kelly James' arrest.

Sizing up her task, Catherine realized she was going to need help. She looked up and found Sara watching her.

"Please don't leave," she pleaded, ashamed of her fear. "Grissom will be back soon."

"Ok, do you want to talk?" the older CSI started slowly.

Sara exhaled a small chuckle, "Yeah so I thought I'd have peanut butter and jelly for lunch tonight."

"I'm sorry—" she started to apologize, but Sara stopped her.

"Cath, don't apologize. I just need to get down. My shoulders are starting to hurt, and it's hard to breath." Sara looked toward the entrance, and breathed out a sign of relief as Grissom started walking toward them. "Catherine, can you pull my sweats up?" she asked urgently, suddenly feeling exposed.

She quickly did as she was asked, feeling bad she hadn't thought to take care of her before she had to ask.

Grissom hesitated, allowing Catherine to take care of Sara's request. Once he was satisfied that Sara would be comfortable in his presence, he continued and stood near her, "Are we ready?" The whole situation unnerved him. It went against every bone in his body to allow Sara, or anyone for that matter, to remain suspended by ropes, but he knew her, and she would never forgive him if the evidence was compromised.

Catherine bent down, ready to cut the bottom ropes. Grissom stepped forward slowly, letting Sara adjust to his closeness. "I'm going to wrap my arms around you ok? Relieve the pressure on your shoulders as soon as your legs are free," he waited patiently for permission.

"Ok," she was touched that he was so concerned. In any other situation she would have felt coddled, but at that moment, she wanted to feel safe and cared about.

Carefully cutting her first ankle free, Catherine winced, hearing the groan from her friend. The rope had been pulled tight, to the point that it must have created a lot of tension on her groin muscles. Cutting away the other rope, she stood.

Grissom watched her face the entire time, every wince, every stray tear that slid down her cheek. Sensing that Catherine was done, he stepped forward, and scooped her up, slowly lifting her. He allowed her to relax her arms at her own pace, and then nodded to Catherine.

She stepped up on a foothold in order to cut higher up on the rope. The blade sliced it easily, finally freeing Sara.

Grissom eased her gently down, on the plastic, and reluctantly backed away. He watched her slowly stretch her arms, encouraging normal circulation to return.

She held her right hand out for Catherine, but found her muscles had stiffened, making it difficult to open it. "Help."

Gently taking her hand, the older woman uncurled her fingers, revealing blood and skin, "Thata girl," she praised the wounded woman in front of her. Collecting several samples she finally asked, "Will this come back as Kelly James' DNA?"

Sara nodded, "I'll need to give you my statement, but he pretty much confessed it all to me."

Catherine smiled at her. "Ok, let's get you some coveralls so I can get your clothes, and get you to the hospital," she suggested carefully removing the last remnants of her bindings, placing them in an evidence bag.

She began to protest, but Grissom interrupted, "Sara, please. Those cuts on your wrist need to be treated, and you look like you have a concussion. Your eyes are dilated."

Looking up, annoyed at him, "I have a gym bag here—" She was going to tell them she could change into those clothes, but her mind immediately flashed to James sifting through the contents. "But, they're evidence too. Can you destroy them when you're done?"

Grissom's fist tightened, he had found the discarded gym bag at the front counter. He had recognized it as Sara's, and felt like he was violating her while he took pictures of her bra and underwear that were obviously handled purposefully.

Both CSIs looked at her with concern. No one was going to relax until they knew the whole story from Sara. "Grissom, can you go out into the truck and get a spare set of overalls, and the sheet we use to change behind?"

Grissom walked away, leaving the two alone again. Catherine searched for words, she settled for a comforting hand on her trembling one.

Sara looked up, "Sorry, the muscles aren't working right."

Her voice sounded steady, so Catherine decided to broach the sensitive subject she had been avoiding, "Sara, I'm going to need to get body shots, and a rape kit."

"I wasn't raped," she answered quickly. Even as she spoke, she remembered his hands on her, and his fingers groping her. "I think I'm going to throw up," she warned her, and pushed away so she couldn't contaminate the evidence.

Grissom came back in time to see Sara dry heaving, and his fear was renewed. He felt rage and frustration. Somewhere along the line he had lost his friendship with Sara, and he wanted so much to be there for her. Instead he had to settle for handing the overalls to Catherine, and backed away to give her space. He walked out into the cool night air, taking a deep breath.

Catherine helped Sara the best she could while holding the sheet up. She was able to see bruising along her midsection, arms, and along her inner thighs. She tried not to jump to conclusions, some of the bruising mostly likely got there in the struggle Sara would have put up.

Once the overalls were up, Catherine dropped the sheet and helped Sara button them. She then led her to a fake rock to sit on, while she bagged the remainder of the clothing. She observed some spotting on the underwear confirming some of her suspicions. She took mental notes, but decided to save her questions for Sara's official statement.

"Do you know what Tucker's status is?" Sara's voice broke the silence.

Placing the final bag containing the plastic tarp in her field kit, Catherine stood, "He was taken to the hospital. We can check on his status when we get there. Deal?"

Sara nodded and stood stiffly. Catherine supported her arm, as they walked slowly to the SUV.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Sara sat in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, only talking when Catherine would ask her questions as she filled out her registration paperwork. She felt cold, angry, and violated. Replaying the attack over and over in her head, she didn't want to forget a single detail before her statement was given. It always ended with a question, _'Was I raped?' _Pushing the question aside, she convinced herself she was molested.

Catherine leaned in, as if reading her mind, "Sara, I think we should have them complete an assault kit."

Frantically looking around the room to made sure Grissom hadn't heard. Sara found him across the room, trying to maintain his cell phone signal, while he coordinated the arrest of Kelly James. She finally opened her mouth to protest, but was stopped by Catherine's hand on hers.

"Sara, what did he do?" the blonde studied her, she knew something had happened.

A lone tear slid down the younger woman's cheek, but before she could respond the nurse called her name.

Grissom watched Catherine stand, and help Sara to her feet, "I gotta go Brass; you tell me when you have him." He spat out, closed the phone, and met the pair by the entrance to the exam area. He wanted to help Sara, but realized how powerless he was given the circumstances. He settled for a gentle hand on her arm.

Sara looked down at his touch, and she hoped he couldn't feel her shaking. She wasn't ready to deal with the truth she knew she was going to have to face, but most of all she didn't want Grissom to know the secrets she hid from him. Looking up at him, she tried to cover the guilt she felt.

He felt the slight tremor that coursed through her body, and was concerned for many reasons. Knowing the effects of shock on the body he worried about her physical well being, but more than that he wondered about her emotional state. When her eyes met his they were laced with pain. "Brass is on his way to arrest him," he told her simply, "Do you want me to stay?" He wanted her to say yes, to tell him she needed him, but he wanted even more for her to feel safe and protected.

She considered him for a moment, and wanted to tell him yes, she wanted him to hold her hand while she was examined; she wanted him to wait with her while the assault kit was completed, but all of that would lead to areas in her past she wasn't willing to confront. "I'm fine," she informed him, and started to follow the nurse, but stopped. "Can you call Catherine when you have him?" For a brief terrifying moment she realized Kelly James was still out there, and had every reason to come and kill her. She was his biggest threat at that moment; she was the evidence that would put him away.

He looked down at Catherine, making sure she was still armed, and nodded, "She'll be my first call."

--/--

Sara had observed hundreds of rape exams, but lying on the table, feet in the stirrups, and the cool feel of metal, was almost as traumatizing as the event that landed her there. Despite their past, she was glad Catherine was in the room, talking to her. She wasn't listening to the words, but let the soft tones relax her.

"Almost done Sara," the resident encouraged her.

She flinched when a swap hit a particularly tender spot, _'God, this is real.' _

Catherine noticed the reaction, and was starting to feel sick. Kelly James clearly did more than touch her colleague. The blonde watched the young doctor place all the samples in the box, and stood, "Sara, I'm going to talk to Dr. Manning, and then come back to take the evidence photos." Getting no response from the brunette, Catherine led the resident toward the door, so she could keep an eye on Sara, and still give her some room.

The doctor handed her the assault kit, "I found no semen, but there were signs of trauma to her external genetila, and her vaginal canal. It wasn't consistent with penile penetration, but possibly an object rape."

She felt a heavy weight growing on her chest while she listened to the findings, "Her other injuries?"

"Someone should stay with her for at least one night. She has a mild concussion. She'll also need to keep the sutures in her wrists and ankle dry for two weeks. Other than that, she had some deep bruising around her joints that will be uncomfortable for several days. I prescribed some percocet, and ibuprofen," the young woman explained, passing Catherine prescriptions.

Catherine took a deep breath, and walked back over to Sara, "You up for documenting your injuries?"

"What did she say?" she needed to know what the official documents were going to say.

Giving her a sympathetic look, "There were signs of trauma, but no evidence of penile penetration. Did he…was there an object?" She couldn't bring herself to actually ask the question.

Sara struggled to sit up, feeling suddenly claustrophobic, and out of control. She brushed off her companions hands, needing to find some area of her life she had command of. Steadying herself, she looked up at Catherine, not bothering to hide the raw emotion she was feeling, "His hand."

Catherine wanted to comfort her, but wasn't sure how. Sara was obviously trying to maintain control of her shredded nerves, and the night was far from over. Before she could speak her phone rang. Looking at the display she tensed, "It's Grissom." She flipped her phone opened, "Willows."

Sara tensed while she listened.

"Yes… Sara said he was wearing gloves," the blonde explained, and looked to her friend for confirmation.

She nodded, "Black leather."

"Black leather, they're evidence… Ok, I'll take her statement, and get a warrant for the rest… Thanks, I will," she slapped the cell shut in satisfaction. "Brass has him in custody. We got him Sara." The older woman rubbed Sara's shoulder.

In a way she was glad he had attacked her. She felt responsible for Suzanna, and she would have been willing to do anything in her power to make him pay for what he did to her. Never expecting the price would have been so high, she thought she may finally be able to bring some peace to the Kirkwoods. "Can we swing by my place before heading to the lab; I want to shower, and change."

Catherine nodded and reached for her camera.

--/--

Sara walked stiffly up the stairs, leaning heavily on the arm rail. She hadn't felt that much overall body pain since she was a kid, and her father was still alive. Harshly pushing the memories of her childhood away, she struggled with her keys. A hand reached out and gently took the ring from her hand, and unlocked the door. Without stopping she thanked Catherine, told her to make herself at home, and headed for her shower.

Turning on the hot water, she discarded the CSI coveralls in the corner, and stepped under the scalding spray. Sinking to the floor, she sat and let the water pour over her while she finally released the tears she had been holding back.

--/--

Catherine finally heard the water stop, and waited patiently for Sara to prepare herself to face the lab. Looking around the living room she realized there was a lot about Sara she didn't know. Remembering asking about her parents once, Sara had confessed they told her she was smart, but hesitated when she had asked if they ever told her she was pretty. After four years that was all she knew.

"Catherine?" Sara's voice drifted through the hallway.

She walked down the hall to the bedroom door, and found it open a crack, "Sara? Did you need me?"

There was silence for a moment, "Can you come help me?"

Concerned, the blonde pushed open the door, and saw her standing in the middle of the room with blue jeans on and her bra hanging loosely. Catherine once again got a look at the black and blue marks that peppered her fair skin, and was concerned to see what the ultraviolet pictures were going to reveal.

Now, on the verge of tears, Catherine quickly realized they were tears of frustration as she struggled with her bra. Her arms were too sore to bend them around her back, and even if she could Cath doubted her hands would be agile enough to hook the clasp. "Here, relax. Let me?" she asked stepping toward her.

Sara turned to give her access to the bra strap, and rubbed her eyes, "I can't even dress myself."

"It's just going to take some time to heal. You'll be good as knew, and stubborn as ever in a few days I promise," the older woman tried to lighten the mood.

She let out a loud sigh, "Thank you. I'll be ready in a minute."

Catherine backed out of the room and gave her the space she needed.

--/--

Sara walked behind Catherine as they entered the police station. She wanted to give her statement, and leave before anyone she knew saw her. News of her attack must have gotten around the department and she just didn't want to deal with the looks of sympathy that would be granted her. She was too familiar with the sideways glances, and the hushed whispers of speculation; she thought those days were behind her.

Approaching the interview room, both women noticed a small crowd, which elicited a string of profanities from her companion. Catherine turned to Sara, "Let's go back to the lab and do this in Grissom's office."

Confused, Sara looked from her colleague, to the officers, and back again. "It's him isn't it?"

Catherine managed a nod, and tried to steer her back toward the exit.

She didn't move, "They're still interrogating him?"

"I don't know, they should have been done already. That's the only reason I followed the procedures, bringing you here for the statement," she explained, placing a guiding hand on the brunette's elbow.

"I want to watch," her voice held more conviction then she actually felt as she started toward the observation room.

Catherine moved quickly in front of her, using Sara's lack of mobility to her advantage, "Sara you can't."

"Catherine get out of my way," her voice was low, trying to hide the emotion she was feeling. Knowing that Kelly James was less than twenty feet away caused her breathing to quicken, and her palms to sweat.

"Sara, you can't. You're not a CSI in this scenario. You're the victim, and if you listen to that interrogation, your testimony could get thrown out." The blonde's voice was just above a whisper, trying not to draw attention to them. She moved to block Sara's view of the door, and to force her attention. "We need to do this by the book."

Sara knew her words were true. Kelly James had already gotten away once with deadly consequences. Her stiff body quickly deflated, leaving her looking fragile, "You're right. I'm sorry, you're right."

Urgent to get Sara out of the building before they transferred Kelly James, she moved her as quickly as she could back to the SUV and helped her settle in. Once she buckled herself in Catherine pulled out of her parking spot.

"Thank you," Sara offered staring out the window.

--/--

Safely sitting in the confines of Grissom's office, Sara finished recounting the attack from beginning to end. Catherine took notes, but allowed the narrative to be told uninterrupted. If she had a question, she jotted it down in the margin of her notes. She may not know much about Sara's past, but she knew how she worked, and if she had to guess, Sara had been rehearsing her statement over and over, recalling any detail she could.

"…he heard the sirens and ran out the back. It wasn't more than two minutes, and Brass and Grissom were there." Her voice maintained it's steady, detached tone from beginning to end.

A knock at the door halted any questions, and Nick's head popped in before anyone would have even had a chance to tell him to enter. "Where you been Catherine? Where's Grissom, I need his signature before I can go…" Trailing off, he sensed the tension in the room. His focus shifted from the blonde, sitting in his supervisors normal chair, to Sara's back.

Sara refused to turn around. She had control of her emotions, but just barely. Nick clearly had no clue what had happened to her, and she didn't feel like retelling the attack again.

"Sara?" The confusion in her friend's voice was clear.

Catherine cleared her throat, "Nick, can you gather Greg and Warrick and have them meet me in the break room?" Glancing at Sara for permission, getting a nod she continued, "There's been a break in the case, and I need to bring everyone up to speed."

"Kelly James?" He asked clearly excited.

"He's in custody. Grissom and Brass are with him as we speak," she added seriously.

Nick spared one more glance at the back of Sara's head, "I'll find 'em."

"Thanks, I'll be there in five minutes," watching Nick shut the door, she glanced at her notes again. "So they were chosen at random?"

Sara nodded, "All of them up until Lydia. Apparently she got in between him and Lisa."

"Ok. How much do you want the guys to know?" she asked, unsure of how to approach the topic with the guys.

"I should tell them," before Catherine could protest, Sara held up a hand, "They're going to hear rumors, I want them to hear the truth from me." Trying to stand, she realized that her muscles were becoming more painful exponentially as the night wore on. "Can you bring them in here? It's…it really hurts to move," she confessed.

"You got it," Catherine stood, and headed for the break room. Before she even got through the door she was assaulted with questions.

Warrick's voice echoed over all of them, "Cath, what's going on?"

"How'd we nail him?" Greg was clearly excited to have played a part in such a high profile arrest.

Nick's voice carried a wave of concern, "Where's Sara?"

Throwing her hands up, everyone fell silent, "We got a warrant for Kelly James' arrest after he attacked another woman. He spooked before he killed her."

"Was Sara involved?" Nick asked painfully aware of her absence.

"She was and she's waiting in Grissom's office to talk to all of you," she explained and led them to the office. Before opening the door she offered a warning, "Don't bombard her with questions."

Her words sobered them all. They filed into the room, flanking Sara, who was still sitting in the chair across from the desk. "Give her some room guys." Catherine instructed making sure the path to the door was clear; she didn't want her to feel trapped.

Nick sat down in the vacant chair next to Sara while Warrick and Greg leaned against the desk in front of her. Nick looked her over. She was wearing a long sleeve shirt, but he could still see white gauze sticking out as she clenched her hands together. His hand covered both of hers, "You're scaring me Sara."

Removing one hand from under his, she placed it on top, sandwiching his hand between hers, enjoying the momentary comfort. She took a deep breath, and decided it would be easier to treat the situation like tearing off a band-aid, "Kelly James attacked me tonight."

Warrick stiffened as he stood, Greg could only look down, and Sara felt Nick squeeze her hand. "I'm ok, I have some cuts and bruises," she stopped, debating in her head over how much to actually tell them, but suddenly remembered she still had not heard about Tucker's condition. She suddenly felt very selfish. "I got a sample of his DNA, and Grissom and Brass got a warrant based on my ID."

Greg looked up suddenly, "There was no DNA sample in the evidence Grissom dropped off.

Sara glanced at Catherine, who shook her head, "I have all the trace evidence collected from Sara. What did he bring in?"

Shifting uncomfortably like a child that told someone a secret he shouldn't, "He brought me some gloves and clothes to process, but told me to not let anyone see the results. He said my job depended on not messing up."

The two women put the pieces together slowly. That was why they were still interrogating Kelly James. Grissom collected evidence, and dropped it in to have it processed before heading to the police station.

Sara cleared her throat, "Are the results in?"

"That's what I was finishing up. Want me to go check on it?" He felt like he was on shaky ground, and didn't know how to react to Sara's news.

"Can you bring the results here?" Catherine asked for Sara, and Greg turned to leave. "Don't look at it," Catherine asked him before he left.

The four friends sat in silence. No one knowing what the right words were given the circumstances; questions were all they had. Nick gently pushed up sleeve revealing a blood stained strip of gauze.

Sara shrugged off his touch, and pulled her sleeve down. "Looks worse than it feels," she whispered.

Greg walked back into the office, handing Catherine a folder. The blonde looked it over, and a pained expression crossed her features. She handed it to Sara, "We'll keep it confidential Sara."

Taking the folder, she knew what it was going to reveal, but she still looked. Interpreting the information, her stomach flipped. The proof of what she tried to deny was in her hand.

"Sar, what is it?" he voiced the question they all had, but weren't sure they were in position to ask.

Tears pooled on her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall. She looked up at Catherine, but spoke to the concerned friends waiting for her answer, "DNA that matches mine…blood, mixed with cervical cells." She stood suddenly, "I want to go to my apartment." Refusing to look at the faces, she knew the look they would have, and she really couldn't stand to see it.

Catherine reached for her to steady her, "I'll drive you."

Sara shook her head, "Please process the evidence. Nick would you?"

"Of course. Sit, and I'll bring my car around," he told her, quickly exiting the room.

"Warrick, Greg, can you get all the rape files together. We need to make sure we can pin every one the murders on the bastard," Catherine instructed, leading them from the room, "Call me if you need anything, anything at all Sara."

"Thank you Catherine," she replied as she sat down.

Catherine closed the door, folder and kit in hand, intent on processing the evidence as discretely as possible. Turning, she came face to face with Grissom.

"Something I can help you with Cath?" His emotions seemed to be barely in check, and she could only wonder what Kelly James had said to him.

Clearing her throat, she placed a hand on his forearm, "I brought Sara in to take her statement, but you were still in with James, so I brought her here, and your office was the most private place I could find. I have her official statement."

His jaw flexed, "She's still in there?"

Nodding, "Nick is going to bring her home. She told the guys what happened, she wanted them to hear from her not the rumor mill, or the media."

Offering a grunt of approval, he reached for the handle, but Catherine stopped him.

"Greg finished with the gloves," handing him the folder. "Talk to Sara before you look at the report."

Opening the door slowly, he stepped inside his office, "Sara?"

His voice sounded hesitant, and Sara turned in her seat. She had let the tears fall, thinking she had a few minutes before anyone disturbed her.

Grissom closed the door, and placed the folder on his desk. Stepping in front of her, he crouched down, eye level with her. He cocked his head, trying to decide if he should speak.

Sara leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder.

He shifted slightly, kneeling for better balance, and wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Catherine moved quickly to a computer with a camera port; she trusted no one else with the pictures, and felt nothing but concern and protectiveness toward her colleague. They may have clashed in the past, but they shared a camaraderie that could only come from their line of work. They weren't cops, but history had proven they needed to watch each other's backs, and Catherine was going to protect every part of Sara.

The computer screen came to life as the pictures appeared slowly across the screen. The blonde stood, closed the door, and locked it securely. Walking around the room she closed every blind, and turned to the oversized plasma screen hanging on the wall. Finding the power button, she returned to the keyboard, and selected the first picture to enlarge.

When taking the pictures, she was careful to not get any of Sara's face in the shot. The only obvious facial injury was a bruise on her forehead, and she had confirmed that was all the UV device would reveal as well. The first shot encompassed just her hairline and forehead; and angry blue lumped jumped up at her.

Taking notes she began reviewing each picture one at a time. Writing, she moved the cursor to the 'next' button, and finished up her notes from the previous picture. Looking up she dropped her pen, and took off her glasses. Standing, she walked over to the screen. Angry purple marks surrounded both breasts. Tentatively reaching out with both hands, the ghost fingers disappeared under her hers. "Damn him," she breathed heavily.

---/---

Sara pushed off Grissom, wiping her tears away with her sleeve, and looking everywhere but at the man in front of her.

He gently cupped her chin, pulling her head to face him, "Sara, talk to me." Seeing her, brought back all the emotions he felt listening to Kelly James. "Do you want to tell me what the results from the gloves are?"

Removing her head from his touch, "Ask Catherine," she choked out. Trying to stand, "Nick'll be waiting for me out front." Her muscles refused to obey her, only allowing her to move inches off the chair before giving out.

"Relax Sara, just sit here a little longer, I'll go find Nick, and we'll help you get out of here," he explained knowing carrying her out of his office was not an option. Leaving her, he walked toward the exit. As much as he wanted to talk to her, he wanted to process the evidence and make sure they had an air tight case against James. He spotted Nick through the glass doors. Holding the door open he called out to him, "Nick!"

The younger man was leaning against the passenger side door of the lab's Denali. Hearing his supervisor's voice, he came to life and ran to him, "Grissom, I'm going to take Sara home," he started to explain.

Putting his hand up, he stopped the younger man. "I know; she's going to need our help to get her out here without causing a scene. She's been through enough tonight."

As the pair walked the short distance down the hall, they both observed it was disserted. The hour was going to work to their advantage. Grissom once again opened the door, and walked in front of Sara.

She looked up at Grissom first, and then sensed they weren't alone. Turning to Nick, she forced a small smile.

"Ready to get out of here?" his Texan accent soothed her.

"Please?" she answered, bracing her arms on the armrests, trying to push herself up. They shook visibly.

Both men moved to help her, bracing her under her arms, and gently pulling her to her feet. A groan escaped her mouth. The pain in her shoulders radiated up her neck, and down her arms, and her groin muscles scream in protest as they stretched.

It was all too much, and she swayed slightly, leaned against Grissom. Trying to remove their hands, she struggled slightly, "Please let go, it hurts."

Grissom was the only one in the room to fully understand what she meant, "Her shoulder," he explained to Nick who looked like he wanted to be sick at the thought that he caused Sara pain. "Steady her around her waist, or her forearm." He instructed the concerned man across from him as he shifted his own grip to wrap around her waist.

Nick slid his hand gently down her arm to steady her at her elbow, the other arm lightly gripping her forearm.

Sara shifted to take his hand, and laced her fingers through Nick's.

The three moved slowly through the hallway, and out into the cool air of the pre-dawn morning. "Nick, you stay with her until I get there?" Grissom asked waiting for confirmation from the younger man.

"I'll take good care of her," he promised and helped Sara into the passenger seat, and ran quickly to the driver's seat.

Grissom watched the black SUV until he could no longer see the tail lights, and turned to find Catherine. His stomached tightened as he thought about the case he was about to work.

---/---

He was surprised to find the door to the computer lab locked, and knocked softly. The blinds to his right shifted slightly as Catherine peered out. Making eye contact, she opened the door part way, shielding the opening with her body.

"Cath?" he asked, wondering instantly if she was going to take him down if he tried to enter.

The blonde looked around the door and at the picture that was currently up on the plasma screen. Turning back to her boss, "Did you talk to Sara?"

Shifting where he stood, he tried to decide if he was touched she was protecting Sara so completely, or annoyed that she was standing in his way. "She said to ask you," he answered holding up the folder he still hadn't looked at.

Opening the door quickly, she moved to let him in, and then locked the door once again. Turning she found Grissom staring intently at the photo on the screen. Sara's toned back would have been an interesting site to see if it weren't covered in harsh, angry bruises. He took a step closer, "Does she…are they…" He wasn't even sure what he was asking.

"They're the UV pictures, those bruises haven't come to the surface yet," she explained seriously, and picked up her note pad. "Most of the heavy bruising is around her shoulder and hip joints."

He sat heavily, "How long was she hanging there?"

"The best I can determine, fifteen minutes before you got there, another ten before I arrived, and then ten minutes to process her, and cut the ropes," she ran through her notes in her head.

His fists clenched, "Thirty-five minutes. Does she have any damage to her tendons?"

"The doctor said no, just some bruising, and soreness. Nick's staying with her?" Catherine didn't know where to begin with the evidence.

"For now," he answered quickly, and then held up the folder, "What's in here?"

Taking a deep breath she began to recount the statement Sara had given, pausing during the particularly graphic elements, observing Grissom, who remained silent. Once she was done, she waited for him to say anything.

Fingering the folder, "The gloves?" he asked holding it up.

Catherine nodded, "Sara's blood, mixed with cervical cells."

Suddenly standing, he flung the folder violently across the room, "God damnit! Catherine, I was sitting in my office talking to you!"

"I know—" she hadn't thought about the what-if scenarios.

He stood rigidly, "I even told myself I'd give her fifteen minutes to answer her phone. Fifteen minutes. I could have been there before he raped her." His rage was seeping from every pore of his body.

"Gil, I'm sorry, but we can't do this to ourselves," she told him, reaching out to him.

Grissom took one step backward, "Do what? Think about how we failed her? Think about how I should have protected her?"

---/---

Sara was vaguely aware of the vehicle coming to a stop, and the weight shifting as the driver side door slammed shut. She didn't want to open her eyes, she didn't want to move. Her door opened slowly, and she felt Nick's hand stroke her cheek softly, "Sara? Honey, are you awake?"

"No," she uttered quietly, and smiled after hearing his soft chuckle.

He leaned over, and unbuckled her.

Her head rolled to face him, and she finally opened her eyes, blinking rapidly, "I can't." She wanted the day to be over, she wanted to go to sleep and wake up from her nightmare.

Slipping his hands under her knees, and behind her back, he lifted her easily. Shutting the door with his foot, he turned to the apartment complex, shifting her weight as he walked.

Sara rested her right hand against his chest, and she closed her eyes letting the steady beat of his heart sooth her. His breathing increased as she felt them ascending the stairs, "Thank you Nick." Walking up to the door, she suddenly realized she didn't have her keys, "Nick, Catherine—"

"Gave me your keys," he finished for her, and deftly unlocked the door without jarring her. Moving down the hallway, he finally laid her gently down in her bed. Backing away he was stopped by her touch.

"Please stay here," she asked quietly.

He kicked off his shoes, and walked around the bed; sliding up behind her, letting her reposition herself. Finding his hand, she grabbed it, and pulled it around her. "Nick?"

Squeezing her gently, "Yes, Sara?"

Silence descended for a moment making him wonder if she even had a question or if she was just reassuring herself he was there.

"Was it rape?" she finally asked, her voice strained.

Nick closed his eyes, "Oh Sara." He wanted to help her, but he felt the strong pull to protect her. Knowing he was by no means a therapist he didn't know how to answer her question. He knew the technical answer, but he didn't want to admit the truth to himself.

"Nick?" she wasn't even sure she wanted to know his answer, but his silence was scaring her.

"Yeah Sara," he finally whispered, hugging her to him, letting her cry herself to sleep.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Grissom walked into the layout room with Catherine close behind. Warrick and Greg were pouring over the boxes of evidence and notes. He sat down next to them, and waited for Catherine to close the door and join them around the table.

All movement stopped as the two younger CSIs looked up expectantly. In truth they were just spinning their wheels; they had been given very little new information, and neither was sure if they wanted the information Catherine and Grissom had.

"How's Sara?" Warrick broke the silence.

"Nick took her home and is staying with her," Catherine started. "The doctor said she's going to need help for a few days."

Warrick and Greg exchanged glances, but neither one wanting to violate Sara's privacy by asking the extent of her injuries. "What do you need us to do?" Warrick finally asked.

Grissom looked at them, "Kelly James is not talking, so the evidence needs to talk."

Warrick's eyes narrowed, "But we have Sara's statement and his DNA right?"

The older CSI nodded, "I want an air tight case. We're going to go through every document, every piece of evidence, and nail him to the wall with it." His voice was low and serious.

Catherine held up Sara's case file, "The photos are going to remain confidential, but my notes, Sara's statement, and the results from the DNA, gloves, and assault kit are in here. Everything you see and read stays within the team."

Grissom shifted slightly, allowing them to see Sara's file didn't sit well with him, but he knew he had to separate his personal feelings if he really wanted to help Sara. "We also need someone to interview Tucker James. He's been admitted to the hospital for surgical reconstruction of the hand. He also sustained a severe concussion, head laceration, several broken ribs, and a fractured jaw."

Greg whistled, "Sounds like someone was trying to send him a message."

"Or get information out of him," Warrick speculated. "I'll go down and talk to him."

"What about the chalk, did we get a sample to run for comparison?" Catherine asked looking through the Croft file.

"There was nothing significant in the sample taken from the vic," Greg explained. "It just led us to the gym…" The younger man trailed off, realizing if they hadn't gone there, or if he had on insisted on her going home, she would never had been assaulted.

Grissom nodded, but said nothing further, unaware he wasn't the only one blaming themselves. Watching everyone pulling out files, he was satisfied that the case was going in the right direction; he grabbed a box for himself and started sorting through the paperwork.

--/--

Nick couldn't sleep. He wanted to hear even the slightest signs of distress from his friend. He watched as she twitched and fought her demons in her sleep. Struggling with wanting to wake her, and wondering if her reality was going to be harder to deal with then her dream, he settled on hugging her tightly against her chest; hoping she would sense his presence. Her arm twitched, drawing attention once again to the bandage wrapped around her wrist; he was still in the dark regarding her injuries, but from the information he did know, he wasn't sure he wanted the full account.

"No," her voice was quiet, but filled with fear.

Nick couldn't take her reliving the event in her dreams, and decided to wake her, "Sara."

"No, dad," her words spilled out more urgently.

He felt sick; he understood the pain born from someone violating a sacred trust. Many of her closest colleagues had assumed Sara had been abused in some way, but she was very private when it came to her past. Nick wasn't even sure Grissom knew the secrets she harbored. Understanding that moments from her past were resurfacing, he was not going to watch her battle those demons after everything she just endured, "Sara, come on, wake up," he pleaded, shaking her gently.

"Mom, help…please no." Sara tensed suddenly, holding her breath.

Nick shot up, and moved quickly around the bed, kneeling in front of her. Her eyes were open, but weren't focused. He placed a comforting hand on the top of her head, the other resting on her hip, "Sara look at me, you're safe."

Blinking, she pulled away from his touch, "Nick?" Confusion was quickly replaced with pain as reality hit her. Trying to sit up, she winced as her muscles protested.

Nick stood, "Cath said she left your painkillers on the counter. I'll go get you some water."

Watching his retreating form, she closed her eyes. She had been fairly successful keeping her past memories as bay for years, but she feared that there would be no stopping the fallout. She wanted to forget, she wanted to not feel anything.

Reentering the bedroom, pills and water in hand, Nick set them down on her night stand. He gently pulled her upright, propping pillows around her, and sat down next to her. Picking up the pills and glass, he handed them to Sara.

Accepting them gratefully, she swallowed them, and leaned her head back against her headboard.

"Do you need anything?" Nick was at a loss; Sara was hard enough to figure out on a daily basis. He had had plenty of experience with victims, but never past the statement.

Sara chuckled slightly, "Yeah, how about a drink."

He smiled at her, not amused, but filled with concern, "Sure, how about some H2O?" he asked lifting the glass.

Grabbing his hand, she knew he would keep her from doing something stupid. Although getting drunk would accomplish her desire to forget, but the result would be temporary. "On the rocks?" she finally asked.

"You bet," he told her lightly. Watching her try to find a comfortable position, his jaw clenched, "Sara, do you want to talk…"

"Not particularly," she started, but watched her friend's face fall. "I trust you Nick, I just want to forget."

He understood that feeling more than she could know, "Sara, you can't just forget this happened. You're going to need to deal with it, or it'll—"

Taking her hand back suddenly, "Nick this is my life."

He hadn't expected her to respond so badly, standing he turned away from her.

Letting out a shaky breath, "Nick, just let me deal with this."

"Are you?" he finally asked turning to face her.

She watched him, he looked at her with pain and sympathy, "Am I what?"

"Dealing with it?"

"Nick what do you want from me? It's been twelve hours." Tears started to trail down her cheeks.

He sat down next to her, "I don't want this to change you. I know what happens when you hold things like this in."

Sara studied him. Everything she had heard of his family life, he had the ideal childhood. His dad a successful lawyer, and eventual a well respected judge, while his mother stayed at home, the perfect wife and mother. Several times, she found herself jealous of his life, but the tremor in his voice caused her to reconsider her assessment.

Feeling slightly exposed under her scrutiny, Nick stood, "I'm sorry. You want to watch a movie, or try to eat something?"

"Who was it?" she asked; her voice carried concern, and a new level of understanding.

Finally looking her in the eyes, his face softened, "A babysitter. I never told anyone, and it changed me Sara. I tried to forget, but I never could. This isn't going away."

Nodding her head, "I know; can we just not deal with it now?" Waiting a moment, she wanted to make sure they were ok, "A movie huh?"

He smiled, "Yeah, but I get to pick it?"

"Wow, that doesn't seem fair," she tried to keep her voice light.

Walking over to her, he helped her stand, "Fair? I've seen your movie selection. I've never seen so many chick flicks."

--/--

Grissom sat in his office, Sara's file on his desk. All he could do was stare at the brown folder. Warrick had left for the hospital, and Greg and Catherine were meeting with the prosecutor; leaving him alone with his thoughts.

"_You don't care."_ Her words haunted him. He had no idea where the explosion had come from until she continued her outburst. _"Somebody young and beautiful shows up. Somebody we could care about."_ He remembered his words, they were never meant for her ears. Seeing Debbie Marlin, dead in a pool of her blood, had shaken him, but he never once considered what the fallout from the case had done to Sara.

Doing everything he could short of sending her home, he had kept her at an arms length. At the time, he told himself he was protecting her; however looking back he realized he had been a coward.

"_You can care about a woman that looks just like me because she's a case."_ She was so wrong. It was her he cared about, and each time he had looked at Debbie, he saw Sara.

Opening the folder, he glanced over the data. He couldn't protect her.

Standing, he grabbed his keys, and headed for his car.

--/--

Nick watched the movie, arm comfortably draped around Sara, her head resting on his chest. The remote was out of reach, so he found himself forced to watch the end of _You've Got Mail_. He had teased her while picking out the movie that he would have never guessed that she would own half the movies in her collection. _'Isn't real life enough twisted enough for you?' _her words grounded him again. Piece by piece she was starting to make sense to him. Her whole life away from work was carefully designed to try to get away from work… and something. _'I just want to forget.' _That he could understand.

His own life had been spent trying to forget being raped at nine. Glancing at her front door, his mind began to recall every detail of his bedroom door. He had stared at it for so long, waiting for his mother, but when she had opened the door, he pretended he was asleep.

A soft timid knock brought Nick back to reality. Gently disentangling himself from Sara, he successfully laid her down, pulled her feet up, and covered her with a blanket, all without waking her. It had to be the drugs that had knocked her out.

Looking through the peephole, he couldn't decide if he was surprised or not. Quickly opening the door, he gave Grissom room to step in, "She's asleep," he whispered nodding his head in her direction.

Moving to the kitchen, Nick followed, "How is she?" Grissom's voice was laced with concern.

Nick shrugged, "She's Sara."

The older man offered a knowing sigh, "Go home, take a shower, and get some sleep."

Feeling overprotective of Sara, Nick questioned the decision to leave her while she was still asleep, and with Grissom. "I don't know how well she'll react to waking and finding me gone." He phrased his words carefully.

"You mean how she'll react to me being here?" Grissom supplied the words Nick was too afraid to say. "I'm here to help her Nick, and I need you on top of your game."

"Why? Has something happened?" The younger CSI asked, immediately concerned that Kelly James was about to get away again.

"No, they've just pushed through the pretrial process given the impact James had on the Vegas community, and that he attacked a member of the law enforcement task force assigned to arresting the serial murderer." Grissom explained. It was all coming together very quickly, "We're all going to need to testify in the next few days, so we all need to be well aquatinted with the evidence."

Reluctantly, Nick conceded. In truth, he knew Grissom cared deeply for Sara, and he was possibly the only one she would open up to. Gathering his things, he quietly leaned over and kissed Sara's forehead.

Grissom watched the interaction. He knew he had made the right decision sending Sara home with Nick, now he hoped she would be comfortable in his presence. Standing in the doorway, the younger man looked back at his supervisor, "She wants to forget."

Processing the information, he nodded his understanding.

Fingering the door, Nick studied the wood, "We can't let her do that." Turning before his emotions betrayed him; he closed the door, and heard it lock behind him.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 **

Grissom was content to watch Sara sleep. He sat perched in the chair adjacent to her couch, while the soft sounds from the title menu of a movie he did not recognize played over and over again. Too afraid of waking her, he hadn't moved since he sat down after locking the door.

She appeared to be sleeping peacefully, and Grissom was left wondering if that was because she thought Nick was still there. In truth, he was glad she was not awake; he needed the time to collect his thoughts.

There was a time he thought the mental picture etched in his mind—of Sara hunched over, throat cut, and blood pooling around her—would always burn brightly. But now, after walking into the crime scene, seeing Sara hanging and in pain, the image had been permanently replaced. All his fears and emotions felt during Debbie Marlin's case were renewed, and had transformed into something deeper. He needed to deal with those thoughts and feelings, but wasn't sure she needed that complication.

So he sat; content to watch her sleep.

---/---

Nick walked through the hallway, noting how subdued the lab had become. Various details had no doubt been running through the rumor mill, and he felt himself becoming defensive. He knew it was human to want to know what was going on, but when one of their own was a victim; the information became harder to control.

Walking into the layout room Nick found Greg organizing stacks of paperwork, "You've really been thrown into the deep end with this one, huh?" he asked, sitting across from the lab rat.

Looking up from his task, Greg's face contorted in confusion, "What do you mean?"

Nodding his head toward the files in his hands, "The paperwork on this one; if you can handle this case without poking your eyes out, Grissom should hire you as a level three." Not getting even a smile out of Greg, Nick knew the last twenty-four hours were wearing on him.

Looking back down at the files, Greg spoke quietly, "How's Sara?"

"She was sleeping when I left her with Grissom. She's tough, she'll get through this," Nick realized there were very few ways to make the situation sound positive, but he sensed Greg needed something to hang on to.

Finally looking back up at the older CSI, Greg walked over the end of the table and pulled a brown folder out and handed it to Nick.

"What's this?" he asked as he opened it; sitting immediately after reading Sara's name.

"Grissom left it in his office. I didn't want anyone to find it." He had planned to guard it himself if necessary. "Catherine has all the photos, but that file is for our eyes only."

As he began to read her statement, the Texan rubbed his eyes, and look up in to Greg's knowing eyes. What he was about to read was haunting the man in front of him.

---/---

Grissom couldn't take the repetitive noise coming from the DVD any longer, and finally stood to turn off the TV. Trying to move quietly, he watched Sara stir slightly, but she did not wake. At that moment however, his phone rang.

Sara's eyes shot open, and then just as suddenly, closed tightly.

Grissom flipped the cell opened angrily, and moved to the kitchen intent on getting rid of who ever it was quickly. "Grissom," he hissed.

Sara tried to find her bearings as she listened to Grissom's voice drift through her apartment. She was honestly surprised he had come, and didn't know how she felt about his presence. Trying to sit up, her abused arms shook, and her bruised midsection sent a ripple of pain through her abdomen.

"Sara, let me help," Grissom offered, almost running across the small room. Reaching her in several long strides, he leaned over, and braced her around her ribcage. Having seen all the UV pictures, he was aware of every bruise, even if she hadn't seen them yet.

Letting him do all the work, Sara closed her eyes, trying to control the pain. Knowing bruises and muscle injuries always felt worse the second and third day, she was tempted to call the doctor and get better painkillers.

"Just relax, can I get you anything?" He asked, propping pillows up around her. She looked so fragile, he wanted to hug her.

She shook her head, "Who was on the phone?"

_'Business, she's sticking to business.'_ He deserved it, the way he had been treating her, but she didn't deserve denying herself some comfort. "It's not important." He answered simply, fighting the urge to take her hand. "Sara—"

"Why are you here?" Her harsh words carried no emotions.

Cocking his head, he tried to interpret the meaning if her question. Standing, he moved back to the safety of the chair. She wasn't looking at him, and he wondered if she was even expecting an answer from him. "Because I _do_ care."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and she finally met his eyes, "Grissom, you're answering a question from like thirty hours ago. At this rate, we'll have completed a conversation in three years."

Despite the situation, he couldn't stop the small smile from appearing, "Sara, do you want to talk?"

Silently she studied him. She understood his question, he didn't want to talk about her assault; he wanted to talk about them, "Now? Now you want to talk about this? I thought you didn't know what to do about this."

Swallowing hard, he realized how bad an idea wanting to talk was, but wasn't sure how to back pedal.

"Screw it, I'm on drugs, let's do this," she told him, and waited expectantly.

_'She's not going to make this easy,'_ he realized. "I was trying to protect you."

"By ignoring me, by giving a promotion to Nick because I wanted it, by—" She stopped herself, knowing her anger was coming from other sources. "I'm sorry Grissom; I don't think I _can_ do this now."

"Sara, I know my timing sucks, but would you please let me explain what you heard me tell Lurie?" he asked with an air of desperation.

A nod of concession was all she gave him.

"The whole case was difficult. When I walked into the bathroom, I looked at the body, trying to memorize the scene, until I saw her face. Sara it was your face. I had to leave, to find you. I think I held my breath until I saw you turn and face me." Taking a breath he stopped to look at her. He never wanted to have this conversation. Now that he was aware that she had heard what he said to Lurie he had to make her understand. "I asked you to check out the perimeter because I needed you removed from the crime scene."

"You didn't think I could handle it?" She asked sounding exhausted, but also honestly invested in his words.

"At first? Yes. Not that you couldn't work the evidence, but knowing how personally invested you get with some cases, I didn't want you identifying with this victim. I wasn't sure I could handle it, I didn't want to put you in that position." Pausing again he needed to know she understood his motives.

Sara watched him struggle with his thoughts while she wrestled with her own emotions. She was angry that it took her assault to get him to open up, sorry that he had struggled with his problems on his own, and touched that he cared enough and knew enough about her to try to shield her from the mild trauma she would have felt seeing Debbie Marlin. "At first?" she asked him, knowing there was more to his explanation.

Nodding he continued, "Having you near me while I processed her would have been too much. As the hours wore on, and the more invested I got, I had a hard time discerning the difference between you and Debbie. There were moments when I really thought it was your murder I was trying to solve. That I had failed to protect you." His voice was steady, but raw with underlying emotions. "When I sat down, eye to eye with Vincent Lurie, I saw myself, and I was angry."

"At me?" Sara hadn't expected his confession, and was uncertain where he was going.

He shift, and his face softened, "No. No, at me." Searching for the words to explain, he paused. During the interview there had been so many thoughts rushing through his mind, thoughts he had quickly buried. "He killed Debbie because of his inadequacies. She trusted him, invited him in, but he couldn't follow through, so he killed her. I watched him sit there, and I wanted to, I had to get him to admit what he did, and then I realized…"

"The only way to break him was to admit to him what you had done." Sara finished for him.

"You offered yourself to me, trusted me, and I rejected you because of my deficiencies." He finally concluded, hating himself at that moment.

She wanted to comfort him, but her own emotions were blurring her thoughts, "You didn't kill me."

Looking straight into her eyes, he spoke with conviction, "I killed us. Our friendship… and something in your eyes. You don't smile anymore."

"Grissom…" she wanted to tell him. Her past was a suffocating weight on her chest, but it was a weight she had to carry on her own. She had thought a relationship with him would help her forget about her demons, bring her to a place where she felt accepted and needed, but his rejection merely solidified her concerns of the future. Her mother obviously chose the wrong men, and Sara feared what other characteristics she shared with her parents. "You didn't kill us; we just need time to deal with our demons," she offered, and hoped he didn't need her to elaborate. Resting her head on the back of the sofa, she realized she had one last question, "Why now? Are you feeling sorry for me?" His answer frightened her; the last thing she wanted was for him to open up out of sympathy. That would hurt more than his rejection.

"I couldn't protect you," he answered solemnly.

Sara felt as if her heart sunk into her stomach, "That's not your job." Her shields were already starting to rebuild themselves.

Grissom could feel her pulling away from him, and he had no idea what he had said wrong. He thought if he talked to her honestly, she would understand. "Sara, when I saw you last night… I have nightmares too, but they're of you, dying behind glass, and at my hand. I never thought that image would leave. But last night, when I saw you…" He was stumbling over his words, unable to explain to her what only made sense in his head. Sighing, he cursed his inept social skills, "I'm not here to coddle you, or tell you what you want to hear. I wanted to be honest with you… I regretted telling Lurie what I should have told you. I was afraid I lost you."

She didn't know what she was thinking having _this_ conversation with Grissom in her current state, "I just need some time to process everything."

Standing, he backed away, "You're right, this was not the right time. I'm sorry. Do you want me to call Nick or Greg?"

Exhaling lightly, "No Grissom. I want you to stay. We can watch a movie, I'm sure there's some bad sci-fi movie with killer spiders or murderous ants or something."

He smiled and sat down next to her with the remote, "There's a movie in the machine, and the title song has been etched in my memory."

She smiled and relaxed finally, not remembering the last time she felt comfortable in his presence. "It's a chick flick, with no bugs," she warned.

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 **

"Is that everything?" Nick asked putting the cover on the last box.

Catherine flipped through a stack of paperwork while Greg looked on with a mixture of seriousness and hopefulness.

"We just need Tucker James' statement." Catherine concluded.

"Right here," Warrick added from the door way, holding up his note pad. "I just need to type it up."

"What did he have to say?" Greg asked.

Warrick moved into the room, shut the door, and joined his colleagues around the lay out table. "Apparently Kelly called his brother, and Tucker told him he was going to finally end up in jail, where he belonged. An hour later, he showed up at the gym, and demanded to know what Tucker told us. After taking quite a beating he finally told him about the jacket, and Sara showed up and interrupted the interrogation."

Catherine considered the summary, "So Sara was never a target?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Warrick closed his notes, "Well, it appears she wasn't the intended target last night. But the comments he made to Sara indicate that Kelly was planning on attacking her eventually."

"What's Tucker's status?" Catherine asked, realizing she promised to check on him, but they were all concentrating on Sara.

"His surgery was successful, and should regain full use of his hand. They're releasing him in a couple of days." Warrick answered.

Catherine nodded, "Someone should tell Sara. I'll call Grissom's cell, I need to tell him about the court date anyway. Does anyone have anything else they need to pass along?"

Nick nodded, "Yeah, tell Sara we're nailing Kelly James, and we're all thinking about her."

The blonde smiled, "Will do." She stood, and headed toward the privacy of Grissom's office.

---/---

Sara watched from her place at the table as Grissom loaded the dishwasher, "He cooks and he does the dishes?"

Pausing from his task, he cast a glance toward her, "I don't think boiling noodles, and heating up some sauce qualifies as cooking."

Standing stiffly, she smiled, "Well the thought was there. Thank you." Walking back to the couch proved to be a painful task. Aside from her hip pain, she was beginning to realize how brutal Kelly had been. 

"Do you need some help?" Grissom called out after her, but before she could reply his phone rang.

Without looking back, Sara waved him off. Truth was, she felt like she needed some space. His sudden change in behavior was too much for her, and she silently cursed him. _'Why hadn't he picked the day before to open up?'_ she wondered madly, but she knew the answer. She hadn't been attacked the day before. Once again a thought crossed through her head, one she continually dismissed, but now felt like she needed to face it. She knew she took chances sometimes in the field, but she always rationalized them away. Now, she was forced to consider if she subconsciously put herself in danger because she knew that was the only way Grissom would let his carefully constructed shields down. It wasn't a death wish, and she always had a reason for her actions, but her mind was starting to recognize something her subconscious already knew on some level. As afraid as Grissom was, of acting on his feelings for her, he was more afraid of losing her.

"…I'll let her know Cath, thank you." Grissom ended his call, and looked toward Sara. He couldn't interpret her expression, but knew her well enough to know it wasn't a good look. "Sara?"

Shaking her head slightly, "Huh?"

Sitting down next to her, he moved to touch her hand, but finally settled for her shoulder, "Catherine wanted you to know Tucker was recovering and is going to be released from the hospital in a few days."

"Oh, Tucker, I'm a horrible person. I'd forgotten to ask about him. Was he badly hurt?" she asked, feeling responsible for his injuries.

"Warrick spoke with him. It appears Kelly James was trying to find out what his brother had told you and Greg when you interrupted him." he explained. "You weren't his intended victim."

Not wanting to point out the truth they both knew; Sara refrained from adding 'last night' to the end of his statement. Kelly's words were always going to haunt her, _"And I realized how much more pleasure I got from raping someone who really deserved it."_ Suddenly she felt his hands on her, groping her, inside her, and she started to shake.

"Sara?" His concern was palpable, and he clearly had no idea what was happening to the brunette beside him. Placing a hand on her knee to comfort her, he was unprepared for her explosive reaction.

Pushing away, she almost toppled over the arm of the couch, "Don't touch me!"

Pulling his hand back, he quickly stood, trying to give her space, and was helpless to watch her struggle, almost to the point of hyperventilating. "Sara, relax. Breathe, please." He was on the verge of his own panic attack, but his was due to the fact that he was once again in a position where he was unable to help her.

Sara could hear his voice, but it was muffled, like she was underwater. She was starting to feel light headed, and all she could think about was Kelly James. "Sick," she finally wheezed out, and attempted to stand.

Taking a step forward, "Let me help you Sara."

Shaking her head, she nearly ran to the bathroom, and slammed the door behind her.

Grissom stared at the wood, and could hear her throwing up her lunch. Reaching out for the door knob, but he stopped himself. His presence was obviously causing her distress, and he had no idea how to help her. Instead of opening the door, he grabbed his cell phone.

---/---

Sara leaned against the bathroom wall. She could see Grissom's shadow under the door, but didn't feel ready to face him. She was embarrassed at her outburst, and was ashamed that she was unable to control her thoughts and emotions.

"Nick, it's Grissom," his voice drifted through the door. "Are you…can you come back to Sara's? I think she's more comfortable with you here."

The hurt and frustration was evident; Sara felt guilty and relieved at the same time.

"Thanks." He ended the call, and his shadow shifted. "Sara."

"I'm fine, I just need a shower," she called out and leaned over to start the water, making no attempt to get in the tub.

"Nick's on his way over, I need to head back to the lab." His voice sounded hesitant.

His statement seemed simple, but Sara knew better. Leaning her head against the wall, Sara fought between staying in the bathroom until Nick arrived or throwing open the door and launching herself into his arms. Closing her eyes, she decided to stay within the safety of her bathroom.

---/---

Finally hearing two voices in her living room, she opened her eyes. She hadn't moved from her spot curled up against the wall. Rolling her head toward the door, she looked for the familiar shadow that would tell her someone was waiting for her.

When she was a kid she would hide under her bed, and watch for any sign of her dad's shadow. She would line her stuffed animals up in front of her, her first line of defense.

Now she was hiding from Grissom, and she had no logical reason why.

"Sara, it's Nick," the man started with concern.

Reaching up for the towel bar, she pulled her self up, and walked slowly to the door. Opening it, she came face to face with her friend.

Grissom had told Nick she had been in the shower, but taking in the facts that she was fully clothed, her hair was dry, and the water was still running, he knew she hadn't quite made it into the shower, and his concern grew considerably. "Sara, what's wrong, what happened?" Opening his hands he waited for her to make the move into his embrace.

Tears formed in her eyes, as she leaned against him, "I don't know Nick."

Pulling her closely to him, he supported her back gently, and used his other hand to caress the back of her neck.

---/---

Grissom walked into his office, threw his keys in his drawer, and sat heavily in his chair. Flipping through his phone messages, he wasn't even reading them.

"Hello to you too Grissom," Catherine stated from her chair across from him.

"Cath? Were you—"

"—here through that whole routine yes." She finished for him, setting her files on the chair next to her. "What happened?"

Removing his glasses, he considered his friend in front of him. He trusted Catherine, and he needed advice, but didn't want to violate Sara's privacy.

Noting his hesitation, and the speed at which Nick left the lab, she decided to take the direct approach, "What happened at Sara's?"

He slumped in his chair, "I don't know Cath. One minute we were fine, we had just finished eating, and you called. I told her about Tucker, and then she had some sort of panic attack. She wouldn't let me help her; she wouldn't let me touch her. I wanted to help her"

Sighing, she tried to find the right words, "Grissom, it sounds like she's reacting like anyone would in her situation. She was violated, and no one can prepare for an event like that. She's struggling to deal with her emotions, her physical pain, and has no ability to cope with new stressors."

"Are you calling me a stressor?" he asked with a hint of humor despite his feelings.

Offering him a crooked smile, "Gil, you're the definition of a stressor, and in Sara's case a complicated one. Let her find her coping mechanisms, and then approach her as a friend, not a complication."

Taking in her words, he decided he was an idiot. Sara was trying to come to terms with being raped, and he decided that was a good time to talk to her about them, and more specifically about him.

His colleague watched the older man in front of her, waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

"I just want to fix her," he concluded.

Nodding, she understood exactly how he felt. She had thought the same thing as she catalogued the evidence photos, "We can't fix her. She needs time, and some qualified help. We can be her friends." Standing she gathered her notes, and looked back at him one last time, "We're due in court in twelve hours. Go home, take a shower, and stop beating yourself up."

Grissom watched her leave, and looked up at his wall of insects. He realized why he liked them—they were predictable, and he understood how they worked. Scanning the cases, his eyes landed on the collection of butterflies. Even before Debbie Marlin he had always related Sara to the butterfly. She had so much potential to become a beautiful free spirit, but something was holding back her transformation. He couldn't be sure he was her set back, but he knew he played at least a small part.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Sara sat on her couch, keys in hand, looking at the door. She had successfully hid from everyone and everything for a week and a half, but she knew she couldn't remain locked in her apartment forever. The phone calls were continuous, but she was able to kick the concerned protectors out of her apartment.

Her time alone allowed her to face her past, and come to terms with her rape. At least that's what she told herself. All she wanted was for her life to return to normal, and that meant she needed to get off the couch and return to work. 

She had yet to find out what was going on with Kelly James, and she also needed to talk to Tucker while she was at the whole 'getting on with her life'. "That means you have to get up Sidle," she told herself, took a deep breath and finally stood. Reaching the door, her shaky hand grasped the door knob. One more deep breath and she stepped out, locked the door, and refused to look back.

---/---

Grissom glanced through his message slips as he walked down the hall to his office. Sitting at his desk he looked over to the empty chair in front of him. Every time he looked at the seat he remembered how utterly exposed Sara looked after Kelly James had attacked her. He had never seen her let the tears fall so freely down her face. She would get worked up, but she always fought back the tears that formed in her eyes, but when he had caught her off guard, in the safety of his office, he would always remember how fragile she looked.

He would also always remember what it felt like to hold her, to comfort her, the way he always wanted to.

"Hey," her voice was quiet.

Grissom thought he imagined it, until he looked up and saw the source of his thoughts leaning against his doorway. Standing, he wasn't sure what to do. He hadn't expected to see her, but bit back his questions and settled for, "Hi."

It was lame and they both knew it, but Sara offered him a small smile, "Can I?" she asked nodding toward the chair he had just been contemplating.

"Please," was his only answer, as he gestured for her to sit. Only once she was settled did he return to his seat.

"I needed to find some sort of sanity before facing everyone," she explained.

Casting her an understanding smile, "I don't think anyone was expecting you back so soon."

Nodding, "Well, I could only watch You've Got Mail and Two Weeks Notice so many times before you need some sort of mental stimulation." She joked, but soon realized he wasn't laughing. "I need to get back to work. I can't dwell on what happened, and I need to start feeling normal again."

"Well, normal for you is seventy-two hours in one week, and I don't recommend that," he approached the topic carefully. He knew she was strong, and he also knew personally how comforting a routine was. His main concerns were her getting counseling, and using work to hide from her experience.

"I'll take it slow. Seventy hours, and not a minute more," her attempt at humor was meant to tell him 'they' were ok without actually bringing up the subject.

Grissom was glad to see her dry sense of humor was unharmed, and smiled, "Go slowly, and let me know if anything happens that makes you feel uncomfortable."

"Ok," she paused, not sure if she wanted the answer to her next question, "What happened to _him_?"

"Sara, I can't discuss the case with you…" he wanted to answer her question, but reality stopped him. Seeing she was about to protest he pressed on, "The pretrial was air tight, and he's being held without bail until the trial."

Letting out the breath she was holding, she stood, "Thanks."

"Sara, we have enough evidence, you won't even need to testify. You don't have to think about him again." He hoped speaking the words out loud would make the statement true.

Turning away from him, her shoulders slumped slightly, "I wish I could forget."

Grissom was forced to watch her retreating form, and made a note to assign her to Catherine or Nick for the rest of the week.

---/---

Sara walked into the break room unnoticed by the occupants.

"Nice try Greggo, you can't be a CSI until you've experienced scat patrol." Nick was explaining.

Warrick chimed in with a laugh, "Yeah, that and no one else wants to do it."

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Greg began to whine, "This isn't fair. Guess who gets to process the doggie poo when I get back? Moi."

"French Greg, I thought you were Norwegian," Sara piped up causing everyone to freeze.

"Sorry! Meg." He offered in his best Norwegian accent before turning to hug his colleague fiercely.

Laughing genuinely she realized how much she missed everyone, "Easy Greg, that just healed." 

Letting her go instantly, the younger man backed away, and Nick filled his space. "How are you feeling Sar?" He whispered in her ear before pulling away.

"I'm fine. Good. Ready to work," she answered for the benefit of everyone else in the room. 

Catherine had remained quiet, trying to assess the younger woman. She still had an overwhelming need to protect her, but also knew that Sara operated differently then most people she knew. All she could do was request that Grissom assign them together.

Grissom entered the break room with a grim expression on his face, causing the entire night shift to sit quietly at the table. He held a single piece of pink paper in his fist. "What is everyone working on?" His abruptness matched his furrowed brows.

Nick cleared his throat, "I'm finishing up the paperwork for the B&E last night."

"Greg and I have a box full of evidence to process from the DB found at the humane society." Warrick continued.

Nodding, the older man avoided looking at Sara, "Catherine?"

"Ballistics from the armed robbery. We recovered over thirty bullets." The blonde explained.

"Sara, help Catherine, I'm going to meet Brass," he explained and left before anyone could question his directions.

Greg let out a small whistle, "That is one strange man."

Sara bristled, suddenly feeling protective of their supervisor, "Don't you have a date with some doggy doodoo?"

Nick, Warrick, and Greg stood, and the mocking of the labrat drifted down the hall as they made their way into the lab.

Catherine and Sara remained seated in silence until Sara looked over at the woman she suddenly respected intensely, "Cath, thanks. I owe you."

Leaning over, the blonde's hand covered Sara's, "You don't owe me a thing. I was glad to be there for you, I'm just sorry it was under those circumstances."

Offering a grateful smile, Sara stood, "Thirty bullets huh? This'll be fun."

Following her, Catherine laughed, "You have a funny definition of fun."

---/---

Grissom spotted the lights as he drove silently down the residential street. Parking as close as he could, he moved to retrieve his kit from the back of the SUV, and searched the small crowd for Jim Brass.

"Hey Gris," the captain's voice drifted behind him.

Noting the heaviness of his tone, Gil turned slowly and met Jim's eyes, "Another rape?" he asked, not sure if he was able to handle what he was about to see. However, he knew he was more equipped at that moment then the rest of his team to process a rape case.

Nodding, he pointed to the paramedics who were loading up the battered woman.

Relieved and saddened that the young woman was still alive, he moved to the gurney. "I need to look her over quickly," he explained to the two men as they stepped back. Grissom winced as he examined the bloody feet, and began to take initial photographs. The young blonde appeared to be in shock. Her eyes were open, but unseeing, and she did not react to any of the activity around her.

Grissom could only think of Sara, hanging by her arms. He knew at the time she had been unusually strong for someone in her situation, but seeing the newest victim his heart began to pound wildly in his chest.

The paramedics gathered their equipment as they waited for the CSI to finish, "Victim's stable. We're transporting her to Desert Palms. Over."

Looking at the victim through the lens of the camera was the only thing that held him together. Grissom needed to find his focus quickly, and the only way he thought that was possible was to put Sara out of his mind.

Brass walked up to the gurney, "Nobody knows who she is. The Andersons, they called the Security Company." He explained nodding toward the younger couple speaking to another officer. "They thought somebody was trying to break in their back door. Southern Highlands is a new development. There's really not much around here. Some of my guys are talking to everybody, trying to find out what's going on."

Only half listening to the detective, Grissom began processing the evidence out loud, "She has severe lacerations on her feet. She was running hard from somewhere." The thought instantly made him feel sick. 'Sara didn't get an opportunity to run,' he thought to himself. Shaking the thought, he turned away, determined to trace the victim's steps.

Following the trail of blood, he tried to shake the level of pain he was feeling for the woman. Until that point, he had not been able to understand why Sara would get so involved in assault cases, but now, his memories of Sara's pain so fresh in his head, he couldn't help but feel for the victim.

The bread crumbs were leading him down a path that must have been pure terror for the blonde he had just photographed. The trees around him offered no comfort, and the isolation made him feel claustrophobic.

As he snapped a shot of the bloody footprints his mind flashed to the blood drops that had fallen on the white plastic beneath Sara as she hung from the ropes.

Pausing, he began scanning the terrain, looking for evidence as much as he was trying to remind himself where he was. His gazed fell on the soft light emanating from the open door of a car, and he knew he had traced the evidence back to the original crime scene.

Assessing the vehicle he spotted the keys still in the ignition, and an open wallet. The driver's license visible, he was finally able to put a name to the bruised face, Linley Parker. Not a practice he necessary recommended to CSI, but he was desperate to shake Sara's pained expression.

Straightening up, he glanced around, and realized he needed help. As much as he wanted to protect his team from the memories he himself was fighting with, the crime scene covered a large distance, and the victim deserved to get on with her life as quickly as possible.

His only task now, was how to notify the team without upsetting Sara.

---/---

The cell phone beside Sara chirped loudly, glancing at the caller id, she looked over her shoulder at her companion, "It's Grissom."

Looking up from her task, Catherine grimaced, "Can you answer it? I almost have the striations lined up."

Removing one glove, she flipped the phone open, "Sidle." Silence greeted her. "Grissom, are you there?"

"Can I talk to Catherine," he asked trying not to betray his emotions.

Sighing, she assumed he was being over protective, "She in the middle of something. What do you need?"

"I need Catherine to head to Desert Palms and take a victim statement," he explained, hoping to keep the request vague.

Sara stopped, and suddenly realized why he was acting so strangely, "A rape victim."

Catherine's head shot up, and she moved to take the phone away.

Sara stopped her as she held up her hand, "I'm going with."

"No you're not." Both CSI instructed her in stereo.

Looking at the woman in front of her, she tried to explain, "I need to be there for her. The exam is…it's almost as bad as the rape. Let me. I need to make sure I can still do my job." Her honest was raw and poignant.

"Fine. Can you find Nick and tell him I need him down here," he conceded.

"Thank you," she whispered.

_'Don't make me regret this,'_ Grissom thought to himself, "Can I talk to Catherine?"

Handing the phone over, Sara left the room so the pair could talk about her in private.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Nick quietly searched the crime scene, but his mind was on Sara. When she had told him she was going to interview a rape victim he was sure she had lost her mind. His mind flashed to the night they spent together after Grissom called him. He had never seen her so vulnerable, and her inability to tell him what was wrong only upset her more.

Looking up at Grissom, Nick tried hard not to blame him for her reaction. They had all been trained to deal with rape victims, and logically he knew little things would trigger unexpected responses.

He had been at a total lost as to how to help her, and had tried to convince her to seek some professional help. Refusing his offer, he watched as she started to push away from him, and knew he needed to backpedal quickly.

They had survived the night, and the worst of the night terrors, but now, someone had to get through to her, and find a way to make her see the benefits of counseling.

Bring the camera up, he forced himself to focus on his current task, but promised himself that he would call Sara as soon as he was done at the crime scene. After scanning the road, "No skid marks, no signs of another vehicle."

"The engine's running, no flat tires. Why'd she stop?" Grissom added. He realized his mind set had been changed drastically from the way he previously processed crime scenes. He was thinking first in terms of why the victim did what she did rather than what the suspect had done.

---/---

Sara watched the silhouette of the resident move behind the blue curtain. The flash snapped suddenly, causing her to jump slightly. She was mad at herself for being unable to stay near Linley Parker. After her rape exam, she had vowed to make sure the next rape victim she helped would be comforted during the process.

Fidgeting quietly, she could sense Catherine's protective presence. The blonde wasn't helping Linley either, and Sara was selfishly grateful Cath hadn't pushed the issue when they had arrived after the exam had begun.

Observing the figures moving, Sara knew what was about to happen. Linley slid down the table, and the clanking of the metal instruments on the metal tray caused her to squeeze her eyes shut.

"Sara?" Catherine whispered her concern.

"I'm ok. I need to be here," she explained again, trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince her friend. Sara could feel the cold metal slide inside her, and the pressure created by gloved hands, and cotton swabs. _'I can't talk to her,'_ came her sudden realization as the latex gloves snapped off; she turned away, feeling ashamed of her weakness. "I'm going to take the SAE kit to Greg." She spoke, trying to control her voice, and not betray the fear that had gripped her heart.

Catherine didn't want to call attention to her colleague's discomfort, and drew in a breath, trying to determine what Sara needed physically and mentally, "You don't want to take the statement?" Nodding, she knew the answer as soon as she looked in her eyes.

"Do you mind?" Her voice sounded small and vulnerable.

Taking her hand, she shook her head and offered a look of understanding, "No."

As the curtain pulled away, Sara watched the resident that had performed her exam appear. The women looked subtly between the two familiar women with concern and remorse, but tactfully chose not to mention the reason for their familiarity. Knowingly, she handed the box to Sara, and looked at Catherine before continuing, "She's ready."

Taking the box, Sara looked at Catherine, "Thanks." Her words were meant for both women, and she turned to leave.

Catherine pushed the curtain aside, and observed the haggard woman sitting on the exam table, "Linley Parker, I'm Catherine Willows. I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I know that you've been through a horrific ordeal." She was trying to keep it professional, but all she could think of was the pain and trauma she watched Sara endure, and felt the burden of compassion toward the Linley.

"4-4-6." She responded.

Catherine, thrown slightly off balance by the abrupt comment, started to process what she was just told.

"That's all I got. Nevada plates. Some kind of SUV. Black, I think." He voice held a slight tremor, but her eyes showed nothing but determination.

Reminded of Sara's determination, Catherine offered a small smile of pride for both women who seemed to be willing to hang on to every last ounce of control they had, "Can you start from the beginning?"

As she spoke, her voice never wavered. She was most likely suffering from shock, and had detached herself from the reality of the situation, but it still surprised the older woman. The way the human body protected itself amazed her, but she knew, from personal experience now, that the fallout was severe.

"…He didn't use a condom. He got up to zip, and I kicked him in the groin and I ran. And the rest, I guess you know." Linley Parker looked at the older woman without emotion.

The sympathy Catherine felt was unlike anything she had experienced with any other victim, "Thank you. That was very… specific. You said that you looked at  
him. Could you describe him to a forensic artist?"

For the first time emotion broke through the battered woman's barriers. The raw emotions changed her features as she answered with an emphatic, "Yes."

---/---

Grissom's hands gripped the steering wheel as he drove back to the lab quickly. He had tried to see the crime through the rapist's eyes to determine the unanswered questions, but as he processed the scene and tried to think like the suspect, all he could think about was finding Sara, and making sure she was ok. He should have never let her go to the hospital, and he really wasn't sure what he was thinking when he consented.

Parking he reminded himself that he needed to approach her tactfully, and without any hint of confrontation. The last thing they needed was for her to feel like she needed to go on the defensive with him. Walking through the halls he searched for his CSIs.

"Gil," Catherine's voice called out from behind him.

Turning, he was surprised he had passed her without seeing her. Waiting for her to approach him, he reached for her elbow and guided her to a private corner. "How did it go at the hospital?"

The question had five dimensions and they both knew it, "It's hard to say. She didn't take the statement, but stayed until the exam was completed. She took the rape kit, and headed back here, and I haven't seen her yet."

"Where's the victim?" Grissom asked, knowing if he found her he would find Sara nearby

Nodding down the hall, "I have her set up with the forensic artist."

Without another word, he headed down the hall.

---/---

Sara watched Linley through the glass, and couldn't help think that the young woman was stronger than her. She had been an emotional wreck, and still considered herself in that state, she was merely better at hiding it. In the back of her mind she knew she should seek some sort of counseling, and wondered if her past was making her current recovery more difficult.

Grissom slowed his pace as soon as he spotted Sara's tall, slim frame. Glancing through the glass she was staring at, he looked up and studied her a moment.

Her trademark eyebrow raise informed him she was aware of his presence, "What?"

_'Talk to her without offending her,'_ he reminded himself. "How many vacation days do you have on the books?"

Stiffly turning she tried to look at him. Her shoulders still hurt, and the pain was beginning to radiate up through her neck, "About...ten weeks, I guess. Why?"

Her pain did not go unnoticed, "I think you should take a week or two."

Turning, she felt compelled to keep an eye on Linley, "I-I'm still on the case. I just didn't do the interview for once in my life."

Nodding slightly, he glanced at the individual that seemed to have the majority of her attention. He was deeply concerned about her having any involvement on the current case, but didn't know how to express that without upsetting her.

"When was the last time you took a vacation?" She changed the subject suddenly.

He considered her words, and knew she had asked the one question that would defeat any sensible argument he could make.

"Never, right?" She added knowingly, watching the proceedings in the adjacent room.

Grissom knew he couldn't win the current discussion and answered her simply, "Okay." His own voice sounded odd to him, but he was intensely focused on not saying the wrong thing, which he so often did with Sara. Turning to leave, he decided he had to be content with keeping a distant watch over her.

---/---

Sara breathed out slowly, grateful her supervisor hadn't removed her from the case, but she knew Gil had fought hard to keep from saying what was really on his mind. She wasn't sure she had the energy to argue with him, and had settled on logic, the one thing he could not refute.

"Sara," Nick's soft voice drew her from her thoughts.

"Hey," she started, but knew there wasn't another logical argument in her, and simply waited for him to state his concerns.

Coming up behind her, he stood so their shoulders touched. He knew they were at work, and she would not tolerate any sign of weakness, and opted to take the subtle approach. "How is she?" he asked.

"She's amazing. She hasn't broken down. Her mind is clear. She's been one of the best witnesses we've ever had." Her voice carried a tone of defeat.

"Sara–" he was about to remind her about shock, post traumatic stress disorder, when she interrupted him.

"I wanted to be on this case so I could help her…but I can't. I thought I could at least take my experience and become a better CSI, but it's only made me feel the victim's fear and pain." Pausing she turned stiffly again to face Nick. "She's stronger than I was, than I am."

His face contorted in sympathy, "Sara, no. You're recovering. We all are. Let yourself heal. Linley is in shock, and you are the strongest person I know."

Fighting a smile, she turned back to the glass. "Yeah?" her soft voice cracked slightly.

"Yeah. Now come on, you can buy me coffee," he told her, trying to remove her from the source of her inner battle.

A small chuckle escaped her, "I _get_ to buy you coffee?"

Taking her by the elbow, he guided her toward the exit, "It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, but I get the feeling you aren't appreciating it."

Tucking her arm around his bent elbow, she laid her head on his shoulder, "Thank you."

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Greg carried the read out through the hallway. His thoughts continually dwelt on Sara, and how comforting it was to actually play a role in the investigative process other then lab work. He actually felt like his actions put her attacker away.

He wanted to feel like that again. Now all he needed to do was convince Grissom that he was ready to be in the field fulltime. Looking up, he saw his opportunity walking down the adjacent hallway.

Speeding up, Greg positioned himself in front of his supervisor. "Grissom," he started; his heart beating faster, worried about the answer to his request.

Grissom eyed him with an air of annoyance. Having just left Sara, his mind was focused on her. He wanted to help her, but he didn't know how without her pulling away from him. Greg's enthusiasm wasn't what he was in the mood for.

_'Just say it.'_ Greg commanded himself. "I have some information that will be of use to you. But, before you get it, I need a decision."

Grissom's face transformed from annoyance to concern. Feeling he had misjudged the young lab technician, he remembered how dedicated he was during Sara's case. "What?"

The younger man looked away, suddenly intimidated by the man in front of him. He also felt guilty thinking about his career when Sara was struggling to return to the field herself. Still he had opened his mouth, and he wanted to be out of limbo, "I'm tired of being on the fence here. Either I'm in the lab or I'm in the field."

Grissom wasn't expecting an ultimatum, but it also wasn't a request he saw coming. He was under the impression that Greg was merely exploring the investigative role of CSIs, but in the end would decide the money was better where he was. Truth be told, Grissom had been impressed with the resolve he had shown during the toughest case any of the CSI had processed. Remaining professional enough to complete the job when someone they knew and cared for was involved took a great deal of maturity. 

"Which is it?" Greg asked, drawing Grissom's attention back to the question.

"Well, as soon as you can find and train a replacement, you can be in  
the field. Until then, I need you in the lab." He answered genuinely happy the younger man wanted to become a CSI. His positive attitude was one they all needed to find again. He was also slightly amused by the nervousness Greg was projecting.

Greg fought hard to contain his smile. He wanted to hug the man in front of him.

"Now give." Grissom commanded, Greg's good mood wearing down his troubled state of mind.

Looking down at the paper, Greg suddenly remembered the details of the case they were working on. Another rape victim. He had yet to see Sara, but he was wondering if she was anywhere near the case, "I got a CODIS hit off the semen from your victim. DNA matches a rape-murder case from a year ago." The details were haunting to him. Another serial rapist that had gotten away. 

Sensing the seriousness overtake the younger man, Grissom looked down at the paper, "Still open?"

"Warrick's pulling the file," he answered simply.

Reading the younger man's mind, Grissom knew he needed some encouragement. They all did, offering him a wink, he turned to walk away. "Thanks," he offered over his shoulder. They all needed to return to some semblance of normal, and that meant not feeling bad about being in a good mood.

Getting the message, Greg watched the older CSI walk down the hall. "No, thank you," he said to no one, but threw a small party for himself anyway.

---/---

Grissom observed Warrick sorting through crime scene photos. He couldn't help but remember the guilt and rage that filled him when he was forced to look through picture after picture of Sara. Her bruised and battered body…the hand-shaped marks… Closing his eyes, he took a deep steady breath, and walked into the room.

Sensing he was no longer alone, Warrick looked up, "Hey." He had no idea where to begin. He knew that if he didn't solve the case, the rapist would attack again, and he had no control over who was picked. Despite all their efforts during the Kirkwood case, Kelly James had not been caught. Having not played a huge roll in that rape case, he fought hard against the 'what-if' syndrome.

Glancing over at his boss, Warrick saw the intensity and knew he wasn't the only one still beating himself up over Sara's assault. Looking back down at the pictures, he began to narrate the old case, "Victim was a 32-year-old Caucasian female, Emma Dobbins. Sexually assaulted." Noting how intently the man beside him was looking at the photos in front of them, Warrick picked up the picture that seemed to be the focus.

Grissom slowly accepted the picture, half listening to what his colleague was saying.

"Cause of death, strangulation. They used her pantyhose." He concluded, watching Grissom.

The eyes of the woman were clouded over in death. The bruised face transformed momentarily into Sara's. "Where'd they find the body?" His voice sounded distant even to himself. _'This isn't Sara. She didn't die.'_

"Off of Blue Diamond Road, Southern Highlands," Warrick answered allowing Grissom time to study the picture.

Looking up, he realized his mind was wandering to places it shouldn't go, and attempted to focus completely on the case in front of him, "That's not far from where Linley Parker was assaulted."

"Other than the semen, the only evidence at the scene was a shoe print; man's size nine. I talked to Nick. They also found a print; size nine." The younger CSI explained further, sticking to the facts of the case.

Keeping the conversation rolling before he had time to let his mind wander, Gil processed the earlier crime scene in his head, trying to find the common thread, "Did she have a car?"

Checking the notes, Warrick read, "A vintage Pontiac. Registered in her name, never recovered."

Grissom's eyes wandered back to the pictures laid out before him. Not wanting the case to turn into another unsolved serial rapist, he pushed forward, "So apart from geography and age, what else did they have in common?" His eyes never left the unseeing gaze of the dead woman.

"Emma Dobbins ran a movie memorabilia place downtown." Warrick threw out.

"My vic was a pit boss at the Palms," countered Grissom.

Shaking his head, the younger CSI continued, "Emma was married."

Finally taking his eyes off the table, Gil added, "Linley Parker was single. Blonde."

The frustration of getting no where was growing, "She was brunette. The only thing in common: the guy who raped them." Warrick concluded looking at his boss, trying to judge his reaction.

Grissom's eyes drifted back to the crime scene photos. The sickness in the pit of his stomach, he got when looking at the pictures of Sara's naked body, returned. He wasn't going to let this one get away. It was his silent vow to Sara.

---/---

Catherine walked into the observation bay and observed the sketch artist interact with Linley Parker. She was surprised she hadn't found Sara there watching. In truth had come to check up on her colleague as much as she wanted to see how the composite was progressing.

The blonde in front of her looked so small and fragile as she spoke. So unlike the original interview, but Catherine understood, now more then ever, the reactions of the victim.

Linley had the same haunted look Sara had when Catherine had asked for her testimony. It was like they both were watching a movie in their head, helpless to stop it, but forced themselves to relive it, if only to remember the key details that would put their attacker away.

The effect had to be traumatizing.

Helplessly, Catherine watched as Linley's eyes opened, and saw the face of her rapist. The reaction was primal, and heartbreaking, as she leaned over and vomited.

The CSI was suddenly torn between staying to comfort the young woman, and finding Sara. She was always going to remember watching Sara dry heave at the memory of what Kelly James did to her, and Catherine felt guilty for both women's reactions. She forced them both to think about the pain, and humiliation, but had done little to help them forget.

Linley was going to be different. Catherine was determined to help the woman. It was her silent promise to Sara.

---/---

Sara leaned back in her booth, fingering her coffee cup. She was tired of people thinking they needed to fix her. All her life she had encountered individuals that decided that was their mission in life. Sitting in front of Nick, she tried to push aside the feelings of resentment. It wasn't his fault he wasn't the first to make her a project.

"Sara," his calm voice drew her attention away from the handle she had become intensely interested in.

Drawing in a deep breath, "Look, Nick, I'm sorry, I'm not really in the mood to talk."

Trying to hide the hurt he felt, he reached for her hand, "Sara, we don't have to talk about…it. I just want to… I miss you." The time they had spent in her apartment made him realize that a tension had grown between the two of them from the moment they both put in there names for the promotion.

Pulling her hand away, Sara looked her friend in the eye only for second, and returned her gaze to the deep brown liquid that had now grown cold. She was sick of her inability to control her thoughts. Having been so wrapped up in her ability to deal with her feelings for Grissom, she had searched out the one friendship she had always relied on for stability. She understood exactly what he meant. She had missed him too, and regretted that anger toward Grissom's promotion decision was projected toward Nick.

"Thanks for being there…when I needed you," she finally told him, and then realized she had another person she needed to thank. Reaching for his hand the remained on the table, she squeezed it, "We should head back to the lab."

"Are you sure you're up for it? That case, it was getting to me," he admitted.

Standing quickly, Sara fumbled with her wallet, dropping some bills on the table, "Ready?" she asked.

Nick understood avoidance, but he was still just as worried about her as he was the night she was raped.

---/---

Stopping outside Grissom's door, Sara's hand rested on the door knob. Closing her eyes, she searched for the words she needed to tell him. She knew she usually let her words get ahead of her brain when it came to Grissom.

Letting go of the handle, she took a small step back. Before she could retreat, the door swung open.

Coming face to face with Sara, Grissom froze. He was on his way to the line up Brass was preparing for Linley. The last thing he was expecting when he opened the door was Sara's haunted eyes. "Sara? Is there something wrong?"

Taking another step back, "No, you look busy. I'll talk to you later."

Instinctively Gil's hand reached out for Sara's elbow, stopping her, "Come on, come sit down."

She allowed herself to be guided back to the chair in front of his desk. Hearing the door close behind her, her mind flashed back to the comforting embrace she had experienced the last time she sat in his office. Tears welled up in her eyes as the raw emotion coursed through her body again.

Grissom repositioned the chair beside her so he could see her face, "Sara, honey, tell me what's wrong."

Blinking rapidly, his voice pulled her back to reality. Wiping her eyes she shook her head. She had cried in front of Grissom more than any other person in her life. "I just…I just wanted to thank you and apologize."

"Apologize?" He wanted to hold her, to touch her, but he remembered the boundaries he placed on himself after her reaction in her apartment.

"I can't explain what happened. It was too much," she paused, normally the words would spill out of her mouth, but at that moment, she had no way to convey her thoughts.

"What was too much?" he asked, her inability to communicate scared him.

Sara leaned back, and stared up at the ceiling. "When I ran away from you. When I hid in the bathroom. It wasn't anything you did, I just didn't need…"

"The complication." He finished for her, finally understanding. He had been hurt and angry that she wanted Nick and not him, but now as he considered it, he realized the way he had been treating her, there was no reason she would have wanted him.

She stood before he could continue, "Thanks for being there for me."

Grissom was forced to watch her from a distance, as he became suddenly aware of how empty his office felt.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Catherine studied Linley Parker. They had sent her home a few hours before only to call her back in for the line up. In all her years as a CSI she had never understood how involved people like Sara would become in cases, but looking at the blonde in front of her, she had never felt so invested in a case.

Linley tensed suddenly as the men entered the observation room in front of them.

A harsh voice shattered the silence, "Single file, stop at your number on the floor. When I tell you to turn, you're gonna face the mirror. When you hear your number called, step forward."

Brass remained a silent observer. His days were always the same. He investigated rape, murders, and assaults, and watched the victims struggle with the worst day of their lives.

"Number one, step forward," an officer requested.

Brass was instantly glad they hadn't needed a line up for Sara to id. Of all the crime scenes he had seen, the vision of Sara suspended from the ropes was one that would always be burned in his memory.

"…number three, step forward."

Linley's features reflected off the glass allowing Catherine to see her eyes widen, and her features harden. Everyone in the room knew, "It's number three. That's the guy who raped me."

Stepping up behind Linley, Catherine refrained from touching her. "Linley," she whispered.

The younger blonde, looked the CSI in the eyes, revealing fear and hatred in once meaningful glance, "You'll put him away? He'll pay for what he did?"

Taken aback, Cath wanted to tell her yes, she wanted to erase the pain, but she knew lying would only hurt the victim more, "I will do everything in my power to make sure your rapist is convicted."

---/---

Sara sat behind her desk, completing paperwork for her closed cases. She was on auto pilot. Thinking work would keep her busy, Sara was soon learning her mind was not going to stop thinking about the way Kelly James smelled, or the way his gloves felt as his hands roamed her body. Instinctively she clamped her knees together despite her still tender muscles.

Her mind was moving at a thousand miles per hour, and all she wanted out of life was for it to slow down.

Closing the brown file she was working on, she tossed it on top the stack of completed files. Exhaling forcefully, the brunette scanned the room. Her eyes fell on Grissom. "How long have you been there?"

A slight hint of fear tainted her voice. They both heard it. _'Great Sara, you were just assaulted by a man who snuck up behind you, and now you're letting people sneak up in front of you.'_

Pushing himself off the door frame, Grissom took a step forward, "Not long. I'm waiting on some DNA results from Greg, and thought I'd see how you were doing."

Nodding toward her stack of folders, "I think this is the first time in history that I've been caught up on my paperwork."

"What are you doing for lunch?" He suddenly blurted out.

Taken aback by his abruptness, she shook her head as if clearing her confusion, "I was going to check up on Tucker."

Glancing at his CSI disapprovingly, he struggled for understanding, "Are you sure that's smart?"

Grabbing a file, she needed to convey to him that the conversation was over, "No, but it's the right thing to do." Sara felt his presence linger, but she refused to look up.

---/---

Sara sat in her car, looking at the house in front of her. She had no idea what she was trying to prove or who she was trying to prove it to. Her mind was racing, and no matter how hard she worked, her focus remained on her feelings of humiliation and lack of control. All she wanted was to just stop thinking for a minute. She wanted to close her eyes, and not see Kelly James; to shower without the streams of water reminding her of his touch.

Stepping out of her car, she inhaled deeply, and walked toward Tucker's door with determination. The wood under her feet creaked, causing her to look over her shoulder. The familiar fear that had been Sara's constant companion for over a week now rose from her stomach to grip her heart.

She was willing to do anything to rid her self of the paralyzing affects. Her stubbornness kept her from running. Something inside her compelled her to prove to Grissom she could take care of herself.

Knocking twice, she waited impatiently. Finally the door opened to reveal a petite blonde, Sara took a step back, "I'm sorry, I wanted…I shouldn't have just stopped by." 

The woman in front of her placed a hand on the retreating brunette's arm, "You here to see Tucker? I'm his sister, Margo, and am sure he's dying for someone else's company." She explained with a smile, and moved to let Sara in. Walking down the hall, Margo led Sara to the living room.

Taking in Tucker's residence, she was mildly surprised to see several potted ivy hanging from the ceiling, a colorful Monet print, and several framed pictures of various rock faces. It was a far cry from Grissom's bare walls punctuated by dead bugs. Sara's focus soon rested on the reason for her visit.

Sleeping in his recliner, his arm was propped up on pillows, a dark bruise along his jaw line accentuated by his now pale skin.

"I don't want to wake him," Sara whispered to Margo who was filling up a glass of water from a pitcher.

Shaking her head slightly, "It's time for his medication anyway, and I'm sure he'll want to see you…"

"Sara." She filled in for the blonde, and watched her face drop slightly. Realizing Tucker had at least told his sister some details, "Should I leave? Would he want to see me?"

Margo set the glass down, and crossed the space that separated them. Genuine compassion emanated from the woman, "Oh no Sara, he wants to see you. Badly. It's all been tearing us up. Our brother–"

"It's ok Margo. You're not responsible for his actions." Before either could elaborate a moan interrupted them.

Margo knelt in front of her brother, placing a warm hand on his knee, "Tucker. Tucker, Sara's here."

Blinking rapidly, he attempted to understand. "Sara?"

Stepping into his line of sight, she offered a small smile, "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Like I have to get better just to die. Sara, how… are you…" he stumbled over his words partly due to the medication, but also due to his shame.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I haven't contacted you soon. I–"

"Sara, you don't have to explain. I wouldn't want to see me either if I were you," he concluded for her, and let the silence settle for a moment. "I don't know what to say." 

"I won't stay long, I just wanted to swing by on my break. Check up on you." Sara explained honestly.

"Break? Are you attending the pretrial?" Margo asked handing her brother some painkillers.

"Pretrial. For Kelly? It's started already?" She was confused, and suddenly angry at her coworkers for keeping her in the dark.

Tucker offered an apologetic nod, "I assumed you would have known, but then again, your office apparently has enough evidence to move past the pretrial. Said they wouldn't need us to testify.

Swallowing hard, Sara knew what that evidence entailed, and felt slightly violated again. "I should go back to work, but please call me when you're feeling better."

"I will. Sara, I'm glad to see you." Tucker told her as he drifted back to sleep.

---/---

Grissom turned the corner, almost running into Nick and Catherine.

"Hey boss, where ya going?" Nick's southern drawl asked as the paired joined him.

"DNA," he answered abruptly and continued to walk only to see his CSIs turn around. He stopped momentarily as they breezed by him, and continued their conversation heading to their new destination.

He heard their voices as they discussed the case, but his mind was not processing their conversation. His thoughts were focused on Sara and his feelings of helpless. They had all attended training that helped them understand the victim, but he was having a hard time remaining objective enough to remember that training.

"…collected at Todd Coombs' house…crime scene." Nick explained, while Grissom tried vainly to listen.

Coming to a stop in front of Greg's work station, Catherine was the first to speak, "So, uh, what do you got, Greg?"

"Well, according to the DNA results, Todd Coombs is not your rapist." The younger man answered.

Catherine's face mirrored her shock and confusion she felt, "You're kidding." Her mind had already begun to find a way to tell Linley, and she wondered if this was how Sara had felt when she was unable to help the victim find justice.

Greg continued to speak, drawing some hope to the surface, "There's only seven out of thirteen, which means we're looking for a sibling."

Grissom finally spoke up, "I believe the semen would indicate a brother."

"Could explain why she picked Todd out of a lineup…strong family resemblance." Nick concluded.

"She was so sure," the blonde was still surprised. She knew eye witness testimony was the worst form of evidence, but the conviction Linley had rivaled Sara's own statement.

---/---

Brass slowly walked up to the couple sorting through a personal belonging's bag. "Dr. Coombs. You're free to go."

"So that's it?" The man asked expecting there to be more.

Nodding slowly, he answered, "Yeah."

The woman standing with their suspect began to lecture him. Brass listened patiently, but knew he had no problem arresting and detaining a rape suspect. He still harbored some guilt regarding Suzanna Kirkwood, and Sara. Watching the couple finally leave, Jim knew he would gladly keep a suspect behind bars for as long as the law would allow him to.

---/---

Linley looked at the CSI in front of her in disbelief, "You're letting him go? Why?"

Shaking her head in apology, Catherine searched for the right words to say, "He's not the man that assaulted you."

"Yes, he is. I identified him." Linley retaliated with conviction. Anger was evident in her words, and tears welled up in her eyes.

Catherine knew the psychology of the victim, and she knew she needed to be completely honest with her, "DNA ruled him out."

"Then you made a mistake. That man raped me." The anger was dissipating, but the fear remained.

Looking at Linley, Catherine felt a sudden urge to heal the victim. The case was becoming personal and quickly, "We have some additional leads, and we're working on them. I promise to keep you informed."

"I saw him. He wanted me to see his face."

Wanting to find some way to comfort the younger women, she looked for an explanation, "Linley, it was dark. You were under attack. Under those conditions, pupils dilate, it's hard to focus." As she spoke Linley's face paled slightly, and her eyes lost focus. It was the same expression Sara had when she was reliving her attack. Trying to get through to her Catherine touched her arm gently, "You can't always trust your eyes."

The touch brought Linley out of her flashback, her anger renewed, "He wanted me to see his face because he was going to kill me, and now you're letting him go?"

Pulling out her business card, the CSI wanted to give her something she could find comfort and protection in, "This is my cell phone number. Call me if you need anything."

"This isn't gonna keep him away from me. What I need is protection. I need a gun."

The admission was blunt, and not at all what Catherine was expecting. "If you don't feel safe in your home, stay with a friend."

The suggestion was answered by a frustrated shake of the head, and Cath was forced to watch Linley walk away. When the case was over, she vowed to apologize to Sara for all the times she lectured her on getting too involved in certain cases. There was no turning back for her on this one. She was invested.

---/---

Walking into the lab, Sara wasn't sure which emotion was winning the war within her. She was angry that she wasn't informed on what was happening with Kelly James, which led to a renewed sense of a loss of control. Her life felt like it was trying to keep up on a treadmill that is set too fast for her. She either needed to regain control, or find a way to numb the feelings.

Spotting Greg working at his DNA station, she walked steady toward him. Determined to find some control. "Hey Greg, any new developments?"

Filling her in on the DNA results, Greg tried to determine his friend's mood. He was deeply concerned about her, but did not have the first clue as to how to help her. "How are–"

"I'm good, thanks Greg," she answered him quickly, and set off to find Grissom. Finally finding him, she watched him for a moment.

He was diligently studying photos, and having a difficult time, not remembering Sara's evidentiary photos highlighting every bruise left by Kelly James.

Suddenly her voice broke the silence, "I hear you're looking for Todd Coombs' brother."

Twisting to look at her, he held the photos away from her, "Or brothers." The answer seemed cold even to him, but he needed to separate himself from her or he was going to loose his last bit of objectivity. He turned his back to her, hoping she was going to tell him she was heading home for the day. He didn't want her anymore involved in the case then she already was.

Sara stared at his back, unable to read him, but decided this was the opportunity she was looking for. She could immerse herself into the case and forget about her own. "I'll work out the family tree."

Grissom stopped suddenly. Her voice held a conviction that he hadn't heard for a long while. The tone that told him, she was on a mission, and there was going to be no way for him to stop her. Watching her retreating form, his concern for her grew exponentially with each step away from him that she took. 

**TBC**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Sara tapped her pencil impatiently while she waited for the last sheet of paper to print out.

"Hey, I heard you were still here," Warrick called out behind her.

Unable to control her reflexes she stiffened, and gripped the pencil tightly in her hand. She closed her eyes, and forced herself to relax. Plastering her most sincere fake smile on her face she turned around to face her friend, "Hey. Yeah, just doing some research," she explained holding up the papers.

Warrick saw through her act, but chose not to call her on it, "What did you find?"

Sara could see the concern in her colleague's face, leaving her to wonder what she hated more, her lack of control over her own body and mind, or the change in the way everyone viewed her. _'Suck it up Sidle, you're trying to focus on your job. That's the one thing Kelly James did not take from you.'_ She admonished herself, and began to answer Warrick's question, "Todd Coombs has four living brothers, two sisters, and a brother that died in 1985."

Taking the printout from the brunette, he looked over the info, "It looks like Roger and Larry work at the same place. We'll head there first," he offered.

"It'll be faster if we split this up. You go there and I'll head over to Bailey's. I'll give Nick the info on Kevin Coombs." She reasoned, and started to stack her notes and files. She wanted to solve the case as quickly as possible, part of her thought she would feel safer if they arrested someone for Linley's rape before the sunset.

Clearing his throat, he wasn't sure how to tell Sara that her going out to interview rape suspects was a very bad idea, "Sara you shouldn't–"

"Shouldn't what?" she almost yelled at him. "Move on with my life? Try to put Kelly James behind me?"

Holding up his hands, he took a step back giving her some space, "You know that's not what I meant. At least stay with me, we'll–"

Looking back down at her notes, "I'll call Vartann." Normally she would have called Brass. She always felt safe with him, but at that moment, she needed to work with someone who hadn't been involved with her case. Turning to walk away, she stopped when she heard Warrick call her name softly.

"Sara," he would have continued, but he was at a lost for what to say to her.

Keeping her back to him, her voice was soft, sincere, and held a hint of desperation, "I'm fine Warrick. Just let me do this." Without waiting for a reply she headed for her locker.

--/--

Sara sat silently in the passenger seat as Detective Vartann parked the car. She had never completely understood the expression "butterflies in my stomach" but at that moment the concept was crystal clear. Being back to work in the office was one thing, but she decided she may have hit the field too early.

Wiping her sweating palms on her jeans, she looked over at her partner.

Vartann was watching her with concern. "Sara, are you sure you should be doing this?"

Forcing a smile, "Yeah, it's just a DNA sample right?"

The officer looked as if he wanted to say more, but Sara opened the door before he got the chance. Feeling exposed she brought her right arm down, allowing it to graze the butt of her gun, subtly making sure it was there. 

Vartann walked around the squad car to stand next to Sara, "Looks like his truck," he observed looking at the residential neighborhood.

Sara followed his gaze and saw an imposing figure hunched down, searching for something in the back of a dark SUV. For an instant it looked like Kelly James, and she wanted to be sick. Taking a step back she felt a weight against her back.

_'Get the hell off me!'_

'No way in hell bitch.'

"Sara?" Vartann's concerned voice broke through, his hand gently resting on her back.

Taking a shaky breath, she walked forward without explanation to her partner, "Mr. Bailey Coombs?" she shouted out, her voice cracking slightly.

The man stood straight, and looked toward the voice.

Summoning every ounce of strength, her advance did not waver, "Are you Bailey Coombs?"

Vartann flanked her closely, and watched the man intently as he nodded.

"Yeah, who are you?" Coombs asked Vartann.

"Det. Vartann, this is CSI Sidle. We're here to request a DNA sample," he explained.

"You want a sample of my DNA? What for?" Bailey asked sizing up Sara.

Vartann, stepped forward an unconscious act of protection, "It's an ongoing investigation, sir -- a rape. Can't discuss it any further than that."

"Does your route include the southern highlands?" Sara asked, her fear giving way to anger over Linley's attack.

His attitude shifted to slight hostility, "No, I work this side of the 15, seven hills."

Unphased Vartann pushed on, "Were you working two nights ago?"

"You talked to my supervisor. You know I was," he answered harshly, and shifted suddenly. "Look, I heard about what happened to that lady, and I know what  
you guys put Todd and Crystal through. You got something against my family?"

Sara took out a swab from her vest. She was ready to be back within the safety of the lab, and wanted the entire situation over, "You got something against cooperating?"

Without further argument Coombs opened his mouth for Sara.

--/--

Fingering a stray thread on her shirt, all Sara wanted was the safety of her apartment and a beer. Her hope of continuing her normal routine was fading fast, and she was on to plan B. Numbing her brain. She just wanted to turn it off.

Pulling up to the crime lab doors, she turned to Vartann, "Thanks for going out there with me."

He reached a hand out, but stopped himself before contacting her arm, "Anytime Sara. Call me anytime."

Resisting the urge to run for the glass doors, she walked as quickly as she could. Once inside, she took a moment to compose herself for the sake of appearances.

Swinging by her locker, she planned to grab a few things, and sneak out. She hung her vest up, and removed her holster. Feeling the weight in her palms, she placed it in her gym bag. Scanning the items her mind flashed back to Kelley James fondling all her clothing.

_'You smell so good.'_

Closing her eyes, she tried to make the movie in her head stop. Finally opening them again, her gaze fell on the white box sticking out of her vest. 'Great Sara. Lose the chain of custody with the evidence because you want to run away from your problems,' she scolded herself, and grabbed the swab.

--/--

Leaving DNA Sara spotted Nick turning the corner in front of her; she moved to catch up with him.

"Hey, how'd it go with brother number four?" she asked hoping her voice sounded more casual then she felt.

"Nowhere. No Kevin Coombs at the address you gave me; no forwarding address. PD's following up," he explained.

Frustration was added to her already heavy load of emotional baggage. Turning the corner, they ran into Grissom. They all stopped in their tracks, and insanely all Sara could think about was how awkward the situation must have been for Nick.

Grissom watched her. Everything he wanted to say could not be uttered in the mixed company. "Nick can you files these reports for me?" he asked offering up the brown folder in his hand.

"Sure thing," was the younger man's only reply.

Sara watching him walk down the hall as long as possible, until she was finally forced to look at the man in front of her. She was unprepared for the level of compassion in his eyes.

"I heard you went into the field?" he asked her trying not to sound judgmental. He was honestly hoping she was going to display the righteous indignation she used to, and tell him returning to field work fixed everything. He knew that would be impossible.

Clearing her throat she nodded, "Um, yeah, it was…I think…" stumbling over her words she decided she had to be honest with him. "I think I'd like to just call it a day and head home if that's ok," she blurted out quickly.

Taking a step closer to her, it pained him to see her looking so vulnerable, "Can I take you home?"

Suddenly aware of how close they were, and where they were, she glanced around. "You don't have to do that."

He leaned in, not caring what people thought. "I want to." Looking down, his guilt was evident, "I need to apologize for last week."

Sara held up her hand, "None of us were really at our best."

Grissom smiled in agreement, but it faded as her sleeve slid down slightly revealing her still healing rope burns around her wrist. Gently taking her hand he examined the wound.

She shifted uncomfortably, and glanced around once more. "They stopped itching. I was good, followed the doctor's orders. No infections," she mumbled trying not to concentrate on the feeling of his soft touch.

"Are you seeing anyone?" he asked her, looking into her eyes.

Sara blinked in confusion. _'Was she seeing anyone?'_ Anger flared through her confusion. He was without a doubt the most socially inept individual she had ever known. _'When the hell did he think she had time to be dating someone? Between being tied up and investigating Linley Parker's rape she had somehow found a social life?'_ She removed her hand from his, "Grissom, what…why…" Her anger was clearly evident, and made it impossible for her formulate a coherent question.

Grissom took a step back. He knew she was guarded when it came to her feelings, but he was unprepared for her reaction to what he thought was a reasonable question. "Sara, I'm just concerned. After what you went through–"

"–I can't do this now," she interrupted and headed for the parking lot.

He was torn between giving her space, and going after her. Looking at her retreating form his concern overrode his desire to not be yelled at.

--/--

Catching up to her at her car, he was relieved they were somewhat secluded. Being berated in front of his employees and colleagues was not on his list of things to do.

Sara was fumbling with her keys, while trying to wipe errant tears from her eyes.

"Sara," he spoke softly.

She whipped around to face him, "What the hell Grissom! Am I seeing someone? After what I went through? What the hell does that mean?"

Trying to appear unphased by her verbal attack, he swallowed, "After everything you went through you really need to talk to someone." _'There, you said it, it came out rationally, non-judgemental,'_ he congratulated himself. _'She's not hitting you yet.'_

"So what, you thought I went out to find some stranger to talk to? Tried to pick someone up at a bar? Or is it Tucker? Are jealous of him and think we have some strange connection now?" Her volume had decreased, and she looked deflated.

It was Grissom's turn to be confused. He had absolutely no idea where her words were coming from. "Sara–"

"Because you know what Grissom. The only person I want to talk to about any of this is you," she finally blurted out leaning heavily against her car.

Taking a hesitant step closer, "I want to help you." He gently pulled her closer, but allowed her to make the final step, almost falling into his chest. "But I'm not qualified."

Her muffled laugh surprised him. She turned her head to rest it against his chest. His hand smoothed her hair back.

"But you think some guy off the street is qualified," she asked quietly.

"If you don't want to see one of the department counselors, we'll pay for whoever you're comfortable with," he explained.

Silence fell on the pair.

Sara let his words sink in. "I'm so stupid," she finally said, and out of shame pushed away from him.

Her warmth lingered against his chest, and he realized he would do anything hold her again. "Sara, you're not stupid. I'm just concerned that you get the help that you need."

Turning to unlock her car she shook her head. "No I over reacted. I thought… I thought you were asking if I was _seeing_ someone. I can't even have a normal conversation. Grissom, I'm sorry." Her back was to him the entire time, and all she wanted to do was retreat to the safety of her apartment.

Finally everything made sense to Grissom, he hurt for her, and wanted to take away all of her pain and insecurity. "Let me drive you home?" he asked again, slowly moving around her, and taking her keys from her hands.

"Ok," she relented and closed her car door. She wasn't sure she should be driving in her current state of mind.

--/--

Walking through her door, Sara noted that her anxiety level was reduced drastically as she heard the deadbolt slide into place. That alone concerned her. She felt like a prisoner. Inhaling deeply she turned to face Grissom, "Can I get yo–"

Mid-turn she was pulled into a bear hug. Relaxing immediately she felt as if she fit perfectly in his arms. Now that there were no emotional distractions and no threat of unwanted eyes, Sara allowed herself to truly experience the moment. She had never in her life felt safer then she did at that moment. Part of her wondered if that was because never in her life had she felt more fear. Soon she was sobbing violently in his arms, allowing a week of pent up emotion out.

Grissom felt her relax, and then begin to weep. He hugged her tighter, wishing that his love for her was strong enough to erase every memory and thought Kelly James had created. He gently drew her head closer as he bent down to kiss her forehead.

Sara looked up at him. She was surprised to see tears staining his face. Reaching up to wipe them away, he took her hand, and softly kissed her wrist.

This was the comfort he had waited patiently for a week to provide. The whole time he had been researching her reactions. He read book after book, and every article, briefing, and case study on rape he could get his hands on. He understood he was an emotional complication, but the time had finally come when that connection they had was exactly what she needed, and it felt so right to him.

--/--

Catherine wasn't sure what more she could do. DNA had come back on the brothers Sara and Warrick had tracked down. Neither was a match. Vartann was busy tracking down the remaining brother.

They were going nowhere fast.

She needed to think, so she sat down at the layout table with her cleaning supplies and instruments.

Her mind drifted back to Sara. She had mixed feelings about her being back in the field, especially on a rape case. Sara needed counseling, and Catherine had a feeling no one was enforcing that.

Suddenly her cell phone rang, "Willows."

Linley's voice answered urgently, "I can't wait 72 hours for a gun. I need it today.  
I need it now."

Taking a moment for Catherine to switch gears in her head, she finally realized who was talking, "Linley?" 

"Hold on," came the reply as a car alarm was disarmed.

Concerned by the desperation evident in the young blonde's voice, Catherine strained to listen for any clue as to what had set her off. Loud music blaring in the background made it difficult to hear anything else. "Linley, I can barely hear you. Where are you?"

"Fremont Street. I…I know you can help me. Just...just give me a name. Tell me where to go," Linley begged.

Before the Catherine could respond, the distinct sound of broken glass echoed over the phone, followed by Linley's screams. "Linley?"

Muffled sounds were all she could hear until Linley shouted, "Stop!" Just as suddenly as it all began the connection was lost.

"Linley!" Catherine irrationally yelled into the phone, knowing the connection was dead.

Running out of the lab, she hit her speed dial buttons.

--/--

Grissom reveled in the relaxed comfort that filled the room. Sara was sipping coffee, while the two watched the latest crime drama.

"They're trying too hard," Sara commented.

"Who?" Grissom asked.

She nodded her head toward the screen, "The writers, producers, whoever. I hate sweeps week. Do you want to watch a movie?"

Before he could answer his phone rang.

She rolled her eyes, and stood to look through her movies.

"Grissom," was all he was able to get out before the person on the other line started talking.

"Slow down Catherine. What happened to L–" he stopped himself before he said her name, looking at Sara.

She instantly knew something horrible had happened to Linley Parker. Sara stood, waiting to find out, but at the same time wondering if she should lock herself in her bathroom.

Grissom watched her while he spoke, "Alright, where… Ok. I'll meet you there. Did you call Brass?"

Her eyes searched his, wanting to see that everything was going to be ok. It clearly wasn't.

"I'm on my way," he finished and closed his phone. "I'll come by and pick you up for your shift later," he explained calmly.

"Is she–" her voice faltered. "Is she ok?"

"I don't know Sara," he answered honestly. He crossed the room in two large steps to stand in front of her. He took her hand and squeezed it, "Are you going to be alright?"

She only nodded.

"Sara?" he needed more from her before he felt ok to leave her alone.

"Yeah, go. Go help her," she answered quietly.

Turning to leave, he waited until he heard the deadbolt and chain being secured.

--/--

Sara leaned her head against the door. Fear was threatening to paralyze her as her breathing increased. Her palms were sweaty, and she fought the urge to call PD to make sure Kelly James was still securely behind bars.

Slamming her hand against the door, she swore in anger. Every moment from her attack came flooding back. It played in real time in her head. She covered her ears and slid to the ground. "Stop…please."

Staring at her kitchen she knew what she needed to make it stop. Suddenly she stood, and headed for her liquor cabinet.

--/--

Catherine pushed her way through the crowd of on lookers. Seeing officers already securing the crime scene, she purposely headed for the driver's seat unsure of what she was going to find. "Where is she?" she asked after finding the vehicle empty.

"I don't know. We just rolled up," a cop replied.

Closing her eyes tightly she couldn't help but feel she had betrayed Linley. _'You don't know you failed her yet Willows. Start processing,'_ she scolded herself and left to grab her kit.

--/--

Grissom parked the SUV. He was glad he had decided to take it, instead of his car. It saved him a trip back to the lab for his kit.

He felt like a horrible person leaving Sara the way he had. She hadn't really opened up to him yet, but he was thrilled she wasn't running away from him, and locking herself in her bathroom.

Walking under the crime scene tape he observed Catherine taking photos of a car he recognized all too well. Moving behind her, he set his kit down, "Hey."

The blonde looked up at him, trying to control her emotions. "There's no new damage except for the window."

Focusing in on the broken window, she saw the small drop of blood, "Blood is probably from whoever broke the glass, not the victim." She was very determined to keep the investigation professional. In order to do that she needed to forget that she knew the victim. Running Sara's investigation had been one of the hardest things she had ever done, and she wasn't prepared to repeat the same trauma.

Grissom, on the other hand, was finding it easier to focus on the task at hand by putting a face to the victim. He tried to picture Linley getting into her car, her attacker breaking the glass, and him cutting his hand. Linley's screams undercut the entire thought.

As he focused on the blood drop he was taken back to the climbing gym. Sara's blood dripping onto the white sheet.

Brass suddenly broke into his thoughts, "Okay, the pawn shop owner ID'd her, she was looking to buy a gun, and she wasn't in the mood to wait."

The pieces were beginning to come into place for Catherine, "Anybody see what happened here?"

Grissom half listened to the conversation, wishing he could get away to call Sara.

"…same guy. He's getting rid of the witness," Catherine spat out getting his attention again.

"Who identified the wrong man," Brass reminded them.

"Soon as the DNA comes back, we'll know which brother it is," the older CSI added.

Exasperated Catherine looked at him, "And until then we wait?" It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain her detachment.

--/--

Sara took another shot of vodka. He was always running away from her when they were getting close.

It was a cycle they dance around. She would open up to him, he would shoot her down, and then take it out on her. Then something terrible would happen to remind him that she even existed.

Emptying the bottle into the shot glass, she brought it to her mouth. "That cycle ends right now," she asserted, downing the fiery liquid. "Let him give the next promotion to Nick. I'm emotionally unstable now anyway," she said standing unsteadily.

Walking to the liquor cabinet she searched for something else to work on. "He can come here, hug me, kiss me…heck he can fuck me for all I care. I'm not pursuing him anymore."

Finding nothing that she wanted to drink, she opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, and headed for her bedroom. The damn room was spinning. "He can come back, we'll talk, and he'll runaway."

Laying down she placed one foot on the floor, telling herself that would keep the room stationary. "Screw it. I'm drunk, I'm not going to remember this anyway."

Putting the beer down on her nightstand she looked over at her plant. "Why do I love him?" she asked the ivy. "Because it feels right."

"I'm talking to a plant. This is much better Sidle," she mumbled as she drifted off to sleep.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Knocking gently, Grissom waited anxiously for Sara to unlock her door. The night had gone from bad to worse, and he had the irrational urge to see her, to ensure himself that she was safe. Seeing Linley Parker's lifeless body had shaken him to the core.

He cursed himself for not getting her key. Bending down on one knee, he searched his pockets for his key chain. Opening a small black case hanging from the silver ring, he pulled out a set of lock picks, and made quick work of the doorknob.

The door swung open, but stopped abruptly. He had forgotten she used her chain. "Sara?" he called out hoping she would answer.

Getting no response he felt the chain. All he needed was his kit, and he could unscrew the chain from the door post.

Hearing a pounding noise, Sara's eyes flew open, but she shut them instantly. She tried to determine if the pounding was real, or just the throbbing in her head.

Lying still, she instantly regretted every shot she drank. Suddenly Grissom's voice invaded her conscience.

Groaning she rolled out of bed, and stumbled into her living room in time to see a hand groping her doorpost. "Grissom?"

His movements froze, "Sara, are you ok?"

Slightly annoyed she made her way to the door. "Yeah, yeah. Back up," she commanded, shutting the door and releasing the chain, and walked away not bothering to reopen the door for him.

Finally Grissom got the hint, and let himself in. Surveying her apartment, his gaze fell on her slight form huddled on the couch.

"Breaking and entering Grissom?" she asked, slight annoyance was mixed with exhaustion.

He remained standing, trying to determine his next move, "I didn't actually get to the entering part."

She waved him off, "That's only because I let you in before you got a screwdriver out."

While she spoke he spotted an empty vodka bottle next to a shot glass and he immediately reach for it.

"It wasn't full," she explained before he even got the opportunity to ask.

Silently, he poured her a glass of water, and brought it to her. He sat across from her, "I'm concerned."

Staring at him, she tried hard to take personal offence to his words, "You don't have to worry about me."

Having learned many lessons in his experiences with her over the course of one week, he knew he needed to keep the conversation light or it would only make matters worse. "I'm not worried, I'm concerned," he explained with a small smirk.

Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. He was trying. "What's the difference Gris?"

"Worry implies anxiety. Concern denotes care. I care about you, and want to keep you from doing something you may regret," he told her.

"Thank you Merriam-Webster," she returned.

Grissom watched her body language, she wasn't tensing up, and clearly wasn't taking offense to his words. He mentally celebrated his mini victory.

"I'm fine," she told him, finally looking at him. She could tell he wasn't buying her words and continued. "I definitely drank for the wrong reasons, but I learned my lesson. The buzz is gone, and now I'm still scared but feel like crap on top of it."

Admitting she was scared was a huge step for her. The words made her remember the reason for the renewed fear. "Linley?" her name was all she was able to utter.

Grissom shifted uncomfortably and stood. He pulled her gently to her feet, "Go take a shower, and I'll make you some breakfast."

"No food, Gris," she told him. "Just let me shower, brush my teeth and change, and then we can head to work."

Before she could leave, he placed a hand on her arm to stop her. "Sara, I think you should stay here."

She studied him, and saw the genuine sorrow in his eyes, and she knew instantly. "She's dead."

He had no words for her. Shame and relief were intertwined as he was glad it wasn't her.

Nodding numbly, Sara walked toward the bathroom. "I'm going to work."

---/---

The night shift was gathered around the layout table comparing notes. The atmosphere was somber, and the conversation was subdued. Everyone only spoke when they had something pertaining to the case to add.

Sara couldn't help but remember the last time they were all together working on case files. Until that point she hadn't considered 'what if' situations. She needed something to do to keep her mind focused. "I'll research the property. Has anyone asked the question 'Why did he bring her there?'. It wasn't like it was on his way to somewhere. He felt safe there."

Her words sunk in to everyone. No one had considered that question; a clear clue that no one was objective. They were all still recovering from the trauma of Sara's attack.

Grissom considered her words briefly, and couldn't argue with her. It was just research, and he would be able to keep his eyes on her.

Catherine nodded and closed her notebook. "Doc Robbins should be ready for me to process the body," she announced.

Grissom nodded. "Come find me when he's ready to complete the autopsy. Everyone else has there assignments," he ordered, and stood to return to his office.

Sara started to leave but was stopped by Nick. She looked into his eyes, tears were welling up. "Nick, are you alright?"

Unable to speak, he nodded, and pulled her into a hug.

Confused, she returned the hug. "It's ok," she tried to comfort him.

Resting his cheek on top of her head, the irony of her comforting him was not lost on him. "When I saw Linley… I don't know. I just thought of everything–"

"–that could have happened to me," she finished for him.

Pulling back he cupped her face with both hands, "Yeah. I'm just really glad you're ok."

Resting a hand on his forearm, she squeezed it, "I'm ok."

"Yeah," he whispered and released her.

---/---

Almost running down the hall, Sara clutched a read out in her hands. The property search was mildly painless, and she wasn't at all surprised that 20 acres were owned by the Coombs' brothers. Stopping short of Grissom's office she felt the need to compose herself.

Before she could take another step she heard Catherine's voice float out of his office, "…all the photos I needed, and collected some samples from her skin."

"How are you?" Grissom asked.

"I guess I'm finally understanding how Sara can get so invested."

"This isn't your fault."

"I know."

Sara heard the pause and felt guilty that she was eavesdropping. She stopped her movement again when she heard her name.

"How's Sara handling everything?" Catherine asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Sara heard Grissom sigh, and waited for his response.

"I honestly don't know… I know this case can't be helping her recovery. I shouldn't have even let her back so soon."

"But she's getting help?"

Another sigh, "No. Pushing only pushes her away."

Sara knew his words were true, but she couldn't help but feel offended. They were talking about her like she was incapable of doing her job, and in need of serious therapy. Stepping away from her hideout, she made her way back to the layout room.

Taking out her cell phone, she dialed a familiar number.

After one ring the officer answered, "Vartann."

---/---

Sara walked along side the detective, "Thanks for coming out here."

"I told you anytime you need back up," he returned. "Now, why are we here?"

Moving toward the trailer she explained, "Checked with county records. Crime scenes on a 20-acre plot. Guess who owns the property."

"One of the Coombs Brothers," he concluded.

"Coombs Brother's company," she supplied. Taking off her sun glasses she surveyed the grounds. "Guy's an artist," she offered sarcastically, hoping her nervousness was well hidden.

If he picked up on it, he was courteous enough to not call her on it. "You call that art?" he replied.

Sara didn't hear him because blood was rushing through her ears. "Black SUV," it was more of an observation then a statement. She hadn't fully considered the possible outcomes, and suddenly realized they may encounter the rapist. She had been so focused on proving she could do her job, she wasn't evaluating where her job was leading her.

Further contemplation was stopped short as the trailer doors burst open.

"You're on my property!" a man shouted, but all Sara saw was the shot gun.

She pulled out her sig, and heard Vartann shout next to her.

"Put the weapon down," he ordered.

But the man did not back down, "You're on my property!"

Training had instantly kicked in, and Sara stood her ground.

"Las Vegas Police, drop it or we shoot," Vartann announced.

Once the man dropped his gun, the detective jumped in. "Turn around," he ordered the suspect as he pushed him up against the trailer.

Sara's focus did not waver the entire time, adrenaline keeping her senses exceptionally aware of every movement that was made.

"Are you Kevin Coombs?" she finally asked once she was sure he was secure.

Vartann for his part was feeling a mixture of annoyance, and over-protectiveness. "I can see the family resemblance. Come on," he finished, trying to drag him away from the CSI. The last thing he needed was for Gil Grissom to find out he let a rape suspect even breathe on Sara.

Watching the pair walk away, Sara took a moment to calm herself. The adrenaline left her shaking, and feeling slightly nauseous. As she turned toward her SUV she was quickly grateful they had driven separate vehicles, and brought a black and white with them. The mere thought of getting into an enclosed space with a possible rapist was too much. She was also glad she was going to have the short drive back into town to compose herself.

Looking around the property once more she had evidence collect. Once the suspect was taken away, she moved to get her kit.

---/---

"Cause of death, asphyxia due to strangulation. Victim has a hairline fracture of the right third metacarpal with some soft tissue swelling," Robbins explained to his colleague, and then pointed to the wounded knuckles.

Grissom examined the hands, "Defensive wounds."

"She was a fighter," Robbins offered before getting to the hard part. "There's also fresh contusions of the right labia."

Surprise hit the older CSI. "She was raped again?" he asked.

"I did a wet mount of the vaginal secretion with a Christmas Tree stain. Slide's under the scope," Robbins finished allowing the slide to be examined. He was aware of Sara's attack, and wasn't sure how detailed he should get with his friend.

"Sperm," he concluded knowing Robbins already documented the detail.

"If he was trying to silence a witness, why not just kill her, why rape her again?" he genuinely wanted to know the answer. The criminal mind was not one he ever tried to understand, but when someone so young was brutalized he was always left asking the 'why' question.

"Maybe rape was just foreplay for this guy. Maybe what he really gets off on is killing," Grissom offered. Any further thoughts were silenced by his cell phone. Offering a look of apology, he flipped it open. "Grissom."

_"It's Brass,"_ the voice announced. _"Vartann wanted to call you, but I volunteered for martyrdom."_

"Brass, what happened?" he asked, his pulse quickening.

_"Sara–"_

Before the man could say another syllable, Grissom was racing out of the autopsy bay. "What happened?" he demanded.

_"Nothing_ happened,_ but she convinced Detective Vartann to back her up. They arrested Kevin Coombs after he pulled a shot gun on them."_ Brass explained quickly.

"Where is she?" Grissom asked as he stopped in the hallway.

_"I just sent her back to the lab. She collected evidence, and Coombs' is here for booking and questioning."_

"Next time, have your detectives tell me before one of my CSI's–"

_"–Sara–"_ Brass supplied.

"Brass!" he was shouting now.

_"Gil, I understand, but I would rather have her feel more comfortable calling Vartann, then going out on her own,"_ he explained calmly.

Before Grissom could comment, he saw Sara walking down the hall toward him. "Brass, she's here," he said into the phone and then shut it.

Without breaking his stride, he walked up to her, grabbed her kit out of her hand, and spun her around. He was surprised she wasn't protesting being handled.

Once inside the safety of his office, he fought the urge to yell at her. "Now I'm worried," he said hoping she would understand the nuisance.

"Grissom, I was just doing my job," her words were hard, but he could tell her fight was gone.

"Last time I checked, I ran this lab," he told her, clenching his jaw, fighting for control.

"And what? You think I shouldn't be here? That's why I went without telling you. To prove to you that I can still do my job," her voice sounded small. She stood before he had a chance to say another word. "I'm going home."

"Sara," he wanted to stop her.

"I'm fine. We're fine. I just need to go home," she told him, and was out the door.

Grissom removed his glasses, and took a moment to compose himself before heading to the police station.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Notes:**

Whew! I never thought I would finish this! First thanks to everyone who stuck with me, your reviews and comment kept me going...Lissa this chapter is for you for poking me into writting again. Also, thanks to Aus for her constant support, and beta reading…and the campaign pin!

Last, thank you Beejay for reading this chapter, and helping me maintain the continuity in the end.

So here it is…that last chapter of the longest piece I have ever written, and poured my heart and soul into. I hope the conclusion satisfies!

**Chapter 17**

Sara heard her phone ringing, but refused to answer it. She knew she would have to talk to Grissom eventually, but decided to do it on her terms.

Drinking the last of her beer, she grimaced. It was warm.

Having no desire to repeat her hangover a second night, she set the bottle down and walked to her couch. Curling up, she was hoping to get a buzz; just enough to numb her nerves and help her sleep.

The phone uttered one last ring before the answering machine picked up. She held her breath, waiting to see if he had the determination to leave a message.

/_Sara. It's Nick. If you're there can you pick up?_/

Surprised to hear the Texan accent float through her apartment, she picked up her phone. "Hey," she offered quietly.

A breath of relief rushed over the phone//_Sara._/

Concern pricked her, "Nicky. What's wrong?"

She listened to him clear his throat.

/_Nothing. We, uh, we just closed Linley's case. Warrick and I are going to go out. I wanted to see if you wanted to come._/

Sara wanted to say yes, but didn't think she was ready. She glanced at her door, it was locked securely. _'You can't hide in here forever Sidle,'_ she told herself.

/_Sara?_/

"Yeah Nick. I don't think I should," she answered.

/_Yeah. Ok. It was a stupid idea. I just…we just…it was a tough case. I guess I wanted to have you with us. Remind us you're ok._/

His voice held a raw emotion she had never heard before. She wanted to be there for her friend. That need began to override her fear. "Where are you going?"

/_Where ever you want to go._/

"How about I meet you by the Bellagio? The fountain relaxes me," she offered.

/_We can come get you._/ He offered, his excitement evident.

Fighting a smile, she chuckled. "I'm a big girl. I'll meet you there in 20 minutes."

--/--

"What a night," Warrick said after a heavy sigh. They were all relieved both Linley and Sara's case were behind them. "You guys hungry? Want to get something to eat?" he asked, it had been a while since he spent time with Sara, and he was hesitant to let the relaxed evening end.

They had found a peaceful bar, had a couple drinks, and had been able to talk without the tension that had surrounded the entire lab since Sara's attack. The residual concern still lingered he noted as he realized he and Nick had taken a protective flank on either side of her as they walked down the busy sidewalk.

"No, I think I'm going to call it a night," Sara answered honestly, her voice carried an air of serenity. The alcohol she had before meeting her friends, combined with the beer she had at the bar, was beginning to make her tired. 

"Yeah, me, too," Nick admitted, glancing at the brunette between them.

Warrick gently placed a hand on Sara's back. "I feel ya. Get some rest," he told her and nodded toward Nick, making sure he was alright to take care of her the rest of the way.

Sara returned the touch with ease, relieved to finally be able to accept friends into her personal space with no reaction.

Nick nodded his understanding at the unspoken question, "All right, I'll see you."

Feeling embolden Sara grabbed Nick's arm, suddenly enjoying the fact that she was able to have normal contact. She knew that thanks in part went to the slight buzz she was feeling, but wasn't going to let that spoil her good mood. "Hey, hey, Nick, congratulations on your almost promotion."

Nick craned his neck to look in her eyes. He wasn't sure what surprised him more–her touch, her good mood, or her words.

She wanted to thank him for everything he had done for her, but needed to make sure he knew she had made peace with Grissom's decision that was made a life time ago. "Seriously, you deserve it," she told him.

His eyes sparkled with concern.

Seeing a flash of vulnerability in her eyes, he knew she was working her way up to something. His instant reaction was to tease her slightly, making her more comfortable.

Knowing him, and loving him like a brother, Sara instantly recognized the shift from concern to good natured humor. She was unable to stop the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth as she looked away from her friend.

"Wow. That's really hard for you, isn't it?" he asked laughing softly.

Pushing him away slightly, she smiled, "Yeah, it is."

"Yeah," he agreed, returned the smile, and watched her keep walking. He was torn between protecting her, and allowing her to have control over her actions. "Can I walk you to your car?" he called out.

She turned to him, and shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I just need to go home and get some sleep."

He nodded, watched her turn around again, and remained rooted in his spot until she walked up to her car in the parking garage across the street, unlocked the door, got inside, and immediately lock the door. Her actions reminded him she was still recovering despite the evening they had just shared. He felt a twinge of grief grip his heart, and wished, not for the first time, that he had been able to protect her.

It wasn't until he saw the car back out of its stall that he turned around, and headed for his own vehicle.

--/--

Grissom sat at his desk, reading another book on the recovery of rape victims. He wanted badly to be available for Sara, but was afraid that he was merely a set back for her. So he did the only thing he knew to do, research.

The phone interrupted his concentration, and he assumed it was going to be Greg with the final DNA results. Coombs had already confessed, but they were going to need the evidence to seal the case.

"Grissom," he answered unprepared for the conversation that was about to happen.

/_Is this Sara Sidle's supervisor?_/ the voice asked him.

"Yes," he answered adrenaline suddenly coursing through him.

/_This is Officer Daniels. We have Ms. Sidle here at the station,_/ he began.

Taking off his glasses, his fear grew exponentially with every word he was hearing, "Is she all right?"

Hearing the tension in his voice, the officer quickly began back tracking. /_She's ok. She's not hurt. I picked her up this evening for driving under the influence. If you want to come down here, and pick her up, I can explain._

"I'll be right there," he answered quickly, hanging up the phone, and grabbing his keys as he ran out of the office.

--/--

"That was fast," Officer Daniels commented after seeing Gil Grissom enter the station.

Offering only a nod of acknowledgement he searched the crowded bullpen for Sara.

"She's in the waiting room. I didn't want to attract unnecessary attention to her," he explained motioning the older man toward the hallway. "Most everyone here knows her, and her case."

Offering an appreciative smile Grissom followed him toward the waiting room.

"She didn't stop completely at a stop sign. When she rolled down her window, I could smell the alcohol, and see that her eyes were dilated. She was lucky she wasn't on the strip. That's highway patrol's jurisdiction," he explained turning a corner. "She blew .09. Technically, she's over, but they just lowered the limit, so we cut her a break and didn't book her. But we did have to call the supervisor," he finished, not adding the fact that he didn't want to put her through any more heartache then she had experienced that month. He had personally never worked with her, but he knew Vartann and Brass respected her and cared for her deeply. That was the only stamp of approval he needed.

Turning into the waiting room, he pointed to Sara sitting quietly.

"Well, thank you. I appreciate the courtesy," Grissom returned with genuine gratitude.

"No problem," Officer Daniels told the CSI and walked away without another word.

Grissom stood for a moment in the doorway, observing Sara. Any other day, any other lifetime, he would have lectured her. She was sitting, her back to him, but he knew she sensed his presence. He guessed she was waiting for the lecture.

Walking around the row of chairs, he sat down quietly next to her. He noted her refusal to look at him, and the pain in her face.

There was a lot about her he didn't think he would ever understand, but he was beginning to figure out how he felt about her. He stared at her hands that hung loosely together.

He loved her, and wanted desperately to be there for her. Sighing softly, he reached over and took her hand in his. He saw tears in her eyes, but knew they wouldn't fall. "Come on. I'll take you home," he told her gently.

Lowering her head, he saw a tear slip out of her control and down her cheek. He pulled her to him, wrapping his free arm around her, squeezing her hand with his other. Finally the dam broke wide open, and she began sobbing violently. "Shh, it's ok. You're ok," he promised her, resting his cheek on top her head.

"I just…what was I thinking? I just ruined my career," she sobbed. "It was all I had left."

Grissom's brow creased with confusion. "Sara. It's ok. Let's get out of here," he offered, pulling her to her feet. He wanted to protect her from prying eyes.

Inhaling deeply, she wiped the side of her face with her sleeve. "Grissom, no. We can't just leave," she told him, her eyes were red and swollen, and she was attempting to steady her breathing. "They haven't printed me, or given me my fine."

Shaking his head, he leaned back trying to get eye contact. "Sara, no. Officer Daniels isn't filing anything. I'm going to take you home," he explained hoping to get through to her.

Relief washed over her. "He's not?"

"No. But if you want to argue with him, he might listen to you," Grissom offered.

Smiling slightly, she shook her head. "No. Home sounds good to me," Sara told him.

They both turned toward the door, and Sara looped her arm around his. "Thanks for coming Gris."

"Always," he promised.

--/--

Grissom watched her sleep from the kitchen chair he had moved into her bedroom. She hadn't moved since she lied down nearly four hours previous.

His thoughts shifted from Supervisor Grissom needing to correct a self destructive action to Gil Grissom the man who loved her, and wanted to protect her from further heartache. 

Both thoughts ended with the same conclusion, he should have found a way to get her to talk to someone professionally. She would have to now, but he could have spared her the humiliation she faced that night.

Leaning closer to her still form, he brushed her hair out of her eyes. It took every ounce of self control to not kiss her. At that moment he knew he would in the near future, but he wanted both of them to remember it. The thought of the violation she had to face at the hands of Kelley James, made him feel sick at the thought of even kissing her with out her expressed permission.

Fighting sleep, his eyes fluttered quickly. He leaned back in his chair rubbing his face, and taking a deep breath. He needed sleep, but he didn't want to leave her side.

Glancing around, he found some extra bedding on top of the hope chest at the foot of her bed. With a flick of his wrists, the blanket unfolded in the air, and floated gently down to the ground beside the bed.

A small groan escaped from Sara, and Grissom froze. He wanted her to sleep, and was afraid his motion had disturbed her.

He watched her battle her demons in her sleep as her eyes moved rapidly beneath her eyelids, and random muscles twitched.

"No…he didn't…he didn't touch me mom," she whispered as her brow contracted as if in intense concentration.

Grissom wasn't sure what to do. He felt oddly voyeuristic just standing there.

"No…stop it. Stop," her pleas sounded weak and vulnerable, and in an instant, her eyes shot open, and she lunged for the bathroom.

Grissom moved quickly to follow, but did not enter the small room. Seeing her wretch was painful for him to watch. When the dry heaving finally stopped, Grissom took one step forward. "Sara," he finally spoke.

She turned her head to look at the source of her name. Her eyes squinted as she focused on him. "Grissom?" she asked listlessly.

One more step forward. "Yeah, Sara. Can I help?" he asked not wanting to push her.

She stood, but continued to study him like she had never seen him before. "Are you…Am I still dreaming?" she asked.

Another step. He shook his head. "I'm here," he told her. They were almost toe to toe, but Grissom waited for her to decide his next move. She was clearly incoherent.

She made no move, but looked into his eyes with an intensity that seemed to bore into his soul. "Are you going to leave?" she asked.

"Not unless you tell me to," he answered, hoping she wouldn't.

Her shoulders slumped, and she seemed disappointed. "Then I'm still dreaming," she said and side-stepped her way past him.

He turned quickly, and caught her arm.

A small cry of pain escaped her.

He dropped her arm as if it bit him. "Sara. I'm sorry. Damn it, I'm so sorry," he told her taking a step back.

She gently rubbed her arm. "I'm not dreaming," she suddenly realized.

Another step back. "No, Sara I forgot about the bruising. Sara, forgive me," he pleaded.

"Grissom…" she trailed off, and sighed softly. Without another word, she turned around and walked back into her bedroom.

He waited a beat, before following, and found her staring at the blanket spread on the floor.

Sensing him behind her, she turned to him. "You were going to sleep on the floor?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, I didn't want to leave you," he answered, walking around the room allowing the bed to act as a buffer between them.

"Because you thought I was going to hurt myself?" she asked, her emotions raw.

Shaking his head, he searched for the words to explain. "I was trying to decide what to do about–"

"–this? Me?" she finished for him, echoing his hurtful words.

"Us," he finished allowing it to hang in the air.

"I don't think there was an "us"," she told him.

Without thinking, he walked quickly around the bed, standing inches apart again, but deciding to not make contact unless she initiated it. "I want there to be. I think there is," he explained.

Her eyes roamed the room, and he knew she was thinking.

"Am I too late?" he whispered.

"That depends–"

"–on what?" he asked quickly.

"Are you saying this out of pity or guilt?" she asked bluntly.

His eyes locked on hers, and traveled down to her lips. "No. I think I love you," he finally revealed.

Surprised she took a step back. "You think?"

"I know," he corrected himself.

"Have you been in love. Do you know it's love?" her rapid fire questions carried no animosity.

"No. I've never been in love. That's why I know. I have never felt like this before," he explained longing to embrace her.

His words melted her last defenses. Tears burned in her eyes. Leaning forward, she brought her lips to his.

Tenderly he returned the kiss, hugging her as if she were a porcelain doll.

Pulling away, she laid her head against his chest. "I love you too Grissom," she said with a pause, "but that's all I can give right now."

Her honesty mixed with the reality of her words hit him at once. "Sara, if you were never able to kiss me again, I would have that memory and your company to sustain me," he told her.

"John Donne?" she asked.

"No. Gil Grissom," he explained.

She chuckled slightly, and pulled away.

Her warmth lingered on him, and he watched her move to her bed.

"Can you sleep here? Not on the floor," she asked.

He silently nodded, and crawled onto the bed next to her.

He waited for her to find a comfortable spot, and he draped a comforting arm around her.

"What happens next?" she asked staring out the window.

He pulled her closer to him. "We wait and see what tomorrow brings, and deal with it together," he promised.

THE END!


End file.
